A Cold and Broken Hallelujah
by blueink3
Summary: All it took was a phone call to shatter Will's happiness to pieces. Emma attempts to pick them up.
1. Seconds

_Seconds_

Emma neatly lined the pencils into rows next to the color-coordinated folders that were splayed across her desk (splayed exactly one inch apart, of course). The second hand on the clock ticked off the time she had to wait until she'd see Carl's smiling face in her doorway, and she tapped her purple Mary Jane against the floor in an effort to speed it along.

Feeling butterflies in her stomach for someone other than one particularly curly-haired Spanish teacher was a new experience for Emma, not that she minded. Even Sue had commented that she looked less like a wounded puppy than she had before. Of course, Sue followed it up by saying she dressed like one of those marshmallow Peep treats, but Emma learned early on to pick her battles.

She propped her elbow on the desk and let her cheek rest against her palm. Wednesday. She hated Wednesdays. So preoccupied was she with daydreaming about Carl that she nearly fell out of her chair when Rachel Berry skidded to a halt outside her door.

"Miss Pillsbury!" Rachel panted in an effort to catch her breath and Emma's inner alarm bells went off.

"Rachel, what's wrong?" She was up and out her chair before Rachel had time to spit out her next sentence.

"Come quick. It's Mr. Schuester."

Emma wished she had stayed seated.

The fear that gripped her was so palpable that she didn't even flinch when Rachel grabbed her hand and dragged her down the hall, babbling all the way. Emma only caught every other word as her heart drummed a rapid beat against her chest.

"Phone… Dad… awful…" Rachel paused before they reached the choir room and made sure Emma heard what she had to say next. "He won't speak."

"What…" Emma trailed off as Rachel yanked the door open letting Finn's voice filter through.

"Dude, back off. Give him room."

Emma entered in time to see Puck backing away from Finn who crouched in front of his seated teacher. Will was facing away from her, but the looks on the kids' faces told her all she needed to know.

"Thank God, Miss P," Mercedes uttered. Finn looked towards the door at her words and stood, placing a hand on his teacher's shoulder as he passed.

"Finn, what happened?" she asked, her eyes never leaving the back of Will's head.

"I don't know. His phone rang, it was his Dad, and then he just sort of froze. He hasn't spoken since. We got a chair under him right before he collapsed. He's been staring at the floor ever since."

Emma nodded and placed a calming hand on his arm. "Thanks, Finn."

He turned and made a motion to his fellow glee clubbers to follow him out of the room. She remained by the door until they all stood and filed out, throwing her scared, worried, and sympathetic glances as they left. The door clicked shut as she made her way to him, circling around in a wide arc so as to not startle him and letting his name fall from her lips.

"Will?"

It was as if her voice jolted him out of whatever stupor he had fallen into and the look on his face was enough to make Emma want to burst into tears.

"Em?" He looked at her in wonder, making a feeble attempt to reach out for her, but his hand dropped back to his lap and she rushed forward to take it again.

"Will, what happened?" She spared a glance for the phone that lay on the ground, its battery resting a few feet away from where it crashed and skittered across the floor.

"I, uh…" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I have to go." He stood and swayed and she wrapped her arms around his waist and guided him back into the chair before he fell down. She heard the door open and looked up to see Finn, ready to jump in if she needed him. She smiled and shook her head, hoping to convey that she was all right for now. Finn closed the door but kept watch through the window.

The clear love that Finn had for his teacher was overwhelming and Emma bit her lip in an effort to remain calm.

"Will," she tried again, running her fingertips through his hair and feeling his pulse thump against his temple.

"I don't get it," he whispered. "I just… we just…" he inhaled a shaky breath as his voice wavered. "She asked me about glee and wanted to know if I tried the recipe she emailed. I told her I hadn't yet. I didn't have time to. But she knew I blew it off…"

"Your Mom?"

At her question, Will crumbled. "Oh God, Em, she's gone," he sobbed.

And finally Emma understood. She cupped his cheek and guided him to her shoulder, not caring that his tears soaked through her cardigan or that he gripped her so hard, he'd probably leave bruises. She pressed the back of his head into the crook of her neck as he held onto her like a life raft. Her heart broke and she didn't know if the tears that fell to her collarbone were hers or his.

She could offer no words of comfort. His name fell from her lips softly, over and over again like a lullaby. His sobs quieted to hiccups and she ran her hands up and down his back until he loosened his grip on her. She could see the apology in his eyes and the thanks. Not needing either, she pressed a kiss to his forehead and let it linger.

"Come on." She held out her hand and attempted to hoist him up. He was far too pale and she knew he wouldn't last long on his own, but Finn was at her side before she even registered the sound of the door opening again.

"I gotcha, Mr. Schue." The student put Will's arm across his shoulders and his other wrapped around his teacher's waist. Emma kept her hand pressed to Will's back as Finn led him to the door.

Stepping out into the hallway, she saw the rest of the glee clubbers loitering at the other end, far enough away to give Will some privacy. Finn probably had something to do with that and her admiration for the clumsy teen grew tenfold.

The walk toward the exit was slow and, though she couldn't see his face, Emma knew that silent tears tracked down Will's cheeks from the way his shoulders shook. Finn halted when they reached the parking lot and looked questioningly at Emma.

"My car," she pointed. "Over there."

Finn nodded and headed in that direction.

"Miss P!"

Emma turned around and saw Kurt jogging up to her, Will's bag in his arms.

"He probably needs this."

She took it from him with a warm smile, "Thank you, Kurt."

"Not that it's his top priority, but tell him that he doesn't have to worry about glee. We've got it covered."

"You guys are always one of his top priorities."

Kurt smiled and looked over her shoulder as Finn guided their teacher to the car.

"If there's anything we can do…"

Emma placed her hand on his arm, "I'll let you know."

Kurt nodded and returned to the school where the rest of the club watched from the doorway. Emma unlocked her car from afar to let Finn open the passenger door and ease Will into the seat. She watched as he leaned down and said something only his teacher could hear. Will reached around and patted Finn on the back of the head, like one would to a young boy.

Emma smiled at the gesture and placed a hand on Finn's back. "Thanks."

"Let me know if…" Finn sniffed and cleared his throat, "… you know."

The bond between the two made Emma's heart break. "I will."

Finn backed away as Emma got into the driver's seat, sliding her hand into Will's as easily as a habit. She only let go to put the car in 'reverse' and then 'drive' again. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Will's head pressed against the window, eyes closed against the cool glass. The fog from his breath marred her perfectly clean car, but Emma didn't give it a second thought as she sped home.

His forehead creased in confusion as Emma put the car into park outside her condo.

"Stay here for a second. I'll be right back."

Will made a noise of protest but did as she asked. She shut the door and jogged up the walk as fast as she could in heels.

Normally, it took Emma at least a full day to pack. And that was only for a long weekend. She managed to throw her things together in ten minutes, a new record she made a mental note to tell her therapist about.

She jogged back down the walkway and threw the bag in the back. Will stared at it and the confusion on his face would have been amusing had it not broken Emma's heart first.

"Here." She handed him a ginger ale and a straw. "It'll help with the nausea."

"How do you know I'm…" His voice was hoarse and he didn't bother completing his thought.

"When my grandmother died, I spent a whole day throwing up." She pulled away from the curb and headed in the direction of his apartment. "Plus you look a little green."

He nodded and popped open the can, sticking the straw in and taking a little sip. "What's with the bag?"

"I'm coming with you." She glanced in the rearview mirror as she made a left turn and she felt his gaze boring a hole through her heart. She expected him to protest and she had her rebuttal at the ready, but it wasn't needed. The only response he gave her was his hand reaching blindly for hers and holding on for dear life.

She pulled up outside his apartment complex and unbuckled her seatbelt. He did the same and trudged up the walkway. It took him a few tries to get the key in the lock. His body was trembling and she saw the grateful look he gave her when she gently took the keys from his hand and ushered him inside.

"What's your parents' address?"

He gasped out a sob when she asked the question and it was only after he scribbled it down for her did she realize her mistake. She had asked for his _parents'_ address. It was now only his _parent's_ address. One.

Emma sat at his computer and pulled up Mapquest, letting her head fall into her hands as her tears splashed onto the keyboard.

She had dried her eyes by the time Will stumbled back into the living room, a duffle bag slung haphazardly over his shoulder.

"Did you get everything?"

He shrugged. "I think so."

She hated how hollow his voice sounded, hated the emptiness in his eyes.

"It's weird." He glanced around his apartment.

"What's weird?"

"When something like this happens, you always wonder which one you're gonna be: the one who keeps it together or the one who falls apart." He let out a bitter laugh. "I guess I know which one I am."

Emma stood and took a step towards him, trying to keep her voice steady for his sake. "No one expects you to keep it together, Will."

"It's just…" he looked so helpless as his bag dropped to the ground, "I should have tried the recipe."

And Emma couldn't keep the tremble from her voice as she whispered his name and threw her arms around his neck. He collapsed into her arms, slumping against her small frame, as he shouldered the weight of the day and the emotion of a life lost. His breath was hot against her skin and she gently ran her fingers through the curls at the base of his neck, a trick her mother had always used on her to calm her down during thunderstorms.

"Come on," she whispered, pulling away and cupping his face in her hands. "Let's get you home."

The ride was short, 30 minutes in traffic, and Will passed out five minutes in, his head resting against the window, hands clenched into fists. Emma glanced over every few minutes as he tossed in a fitful sleep. Even his mind wouldn't give him a moment's peace.

Emma had seen Will that morning. He looked so happy as he greeted students in the hall. She knew his schedule by heart, had memorized it when their "accidental" encounters were part of her daily routine, but now their meetings were few and far between. The schedule remained, though, burned on her brain to taunt her when she wanted so badly to forget.

First he would get his coffee and the lunch lady would slip him an orange juice before classes would start. Then he'd teach the freshman, followed by the juniors. Rachel would corner him after class and he would hide his exasperation as she talked his ear off. He would place a calming hand on her shoulder and Emma could almost hear the words tumble out of his mouth, even though she watched from thirty feet away: _"All right, Rachel, I'll think about it." _

The routine had been the same, but then he turned and met her stare from where she stood outside the office he no longer visited. And there it was: the smile he reserved only for her. It caused Emma's breath to hitch every time. The butterflies Emma felt while waiting for Carl were nothing compared to the back flips her stomach did whenever Will looked at her like that.

He had been happy that morning. All it took was a phone call to shatter that happiness to pieces.

He mumbled something in his sleep and she reached over to brush a curl off his forehead. His hand closed around her wrist and he unconsciously brought it to his face.

"Em." He burrowed his face into her palm and inhaled the smell. Emma let him told tight for the remaining 23 minutes.

It look months to fool herself into thinking she had fallen out of love with him.

It took seconds to realize she hadn't.


	2. Introductions

_Introductions_

Emma squinted at the house numbers as she tried to spot number 406. Passing 402 and 404, she slowed to a stop outside the white house with the wraparound porch.

"Will?" She squeezed his hand and he stirred, still holding her palm close to his chest, as he had done for the entirety of the ride.

"Mm…what?" His eyes opened and her heart broke as his confusion at seeing her gave way to happiness and then realization at why she was next to him in the car. Pain swept through his features like a flood.

"We're here."

He scooted up and looked out the window at his childhood home. "Right." He rubbed his eyes and shook his head, an endearing habit she first noticed he had when he had fallen asleep in a faculty meeting.

Emma pulled the keys from the ignition, but waited to open the door until Will was ready.

She gestured to the house. "Is there anything I should know about him?"

"My Dad?" A smile ghosted across his features. "He has an affinity for bow ties."

Emma scolded herself for wondering if that was a habit she could look forward to later in life from Will.

The front door opened and she was hit with the image of a man proudly selling CD's in a dingy bar at his grown son's concert. The man that stood on the porch gazing blankly at the car had lost the humor in his eyes and the constant smile on his face.

The appearance of his father seemed to light a fire under Will and he flung the door open and bounded across the lawn. His father met him halfway there and wrapped his arms around him.

Emma was slow to get out of the car, wanting to give the men their own private moment. Trying not to listen to their distant murmurings, she pulled the bags from the backseat and slowly made her way up the path, watching as Will turned to her wiping his cheeks and clearing his throat.

"Dad, this is my, uh… Emma."

Emma flushed as Will's father smiled and held out his hand. "Emma," her name rolled off his tongue easily. "We weren't properly introduced last time I was in town. I'm Jack." His eyes flicked to his son as Emma placed her palm in his, "I've heard an awful lot about you."

"Dad." Will's ears turned pink and Emma giggled.

"Likewise."

Will took the bags from her and stated the obvious, "She drove me."

The grip that Jack had on her hand tightened ever so slightly. "Thank you for getting him here safely." And then he let go.

Emma had yet to ask how exactly Will's mom had passed. As Will's father led them into the house, she glanced around at the rocking chairs on the porch and the carefully tended flowers in the garden, all evidence that their caretaker's departure had been swift and unexpected.

The house was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the emptiness its inhabitants felt.

"I think you remember where the rooms are," Jack said as Will nodded and started up the stairs with the bags. Not wanting to be left alone with the man who had just lost the love of his life, Emma muttered something about wanting to freshen up and followed Will.

He walked down the hall and turned into the last bedroom on the right. Emma followed at a slower pace, taking in the pictures on the wall: Will's father trying to teach his 4 year old son how to swing a bat that was clearly too big for him; Will's mother painting her son's face for Halloween; A 16 year old Will sitting atop his brand new blue bomber. As she reached the end of the line, where an adult Will held up a trophy while his glee clubbers beamed beside him, Emma noticed a space missing. If she had to guess, she would say that it once held the smiling faces of a man and a woman, one in a tux, one in a white dress, the world at their feet.

"Em?"

She turned to see him poking his head out of the bedroom.

"Coming." Leaving the memories on the wall, she entered the guest bedroom. Will had placed her bag on the bench at the foot of the bed and was opening the curtains, flooding the room with light.

"It's not much - "

"It's perfect," she interrupted. He stared at her from across the room.

"I can't… even begin to thank you."

"You don't have to."

He took a step forward and started to reach his arms out, before catching himself and letting them fall back to his sides. 

"Sorry I keep forgetting."

"Forgetting what?"

"That you're not, that we're…" he sighed. "Can I just have a hug?"

Emma stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. "You don't ever have to ask me for that."

She ran her fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck and felt him sigh into her shoulder. He pulled away, letting his hands linger on her hips.

"I'll let you get settled. My room is across the hall if you need anything and the bathroom's at the end. It should be pretty clean – my parents' have their own and they don't have many guests, but the Clorox is under the sink should you, you know, need it."

His hands left her hips and she immediately missed his warmth. Her heart swelled, though, because he knew she'd be uncomfortable using a bathroom not her own. He left her alone and she looked around the room. The bedspread was a pale blue and the picture on the bureau of Will and his father in matching plaid pants, golf clubs over their shoulders made Emma smile. Will's parents clearly doted on him.

A gentle thumping from across the hall drew her attention from the picture and she followed the noise into Will's bedroom. Emma felt as though she had been transported back in time. Nothing had changed. A twin bed was flush against the far wall, a solar system hung from the ceiling, a mini-basketball hoop hung over the closet door and a signed baseball lay protected in its plastic case on the dresser. Will lay on the bed, tossing the mini-basketball against the wall.

"Well, if you wanted to know what Will Schuester was like as a child, here it is." He shot her a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. He sat up and swung his legs over the bed that was almost too small for him, an invitation for Emma to join him. "I thought Dad would turn it into an office or Mom would turn it into a bar," he laughed despite the tear that trailed down his cheek. "You don't know how it happened, do you." It wasn't a question, so Emma didn't bother to shake her head. "Drunk driver. My mom was coming home from the elementary school, she volunteers there…" Will ran a hand over his face and tried to keep the sobs from choking his throat. "She probably wasn't even thinking she'd have to worry about something like that. It was 10:30 in the morning for Christ's sake. Who drinks at 10:30 in the morning." He took a deep, shuddering breath and Emma swallowed hard, trying to retain some semblance of composure for Will's sake. "My Dad always joked that it would be the drink that killed her. I don't think he ever thought that someone else's would actually do it."

The ball fell from his hands and onto the floor as Will's strength finally broke. Emma gently guided his head to her lap, running her fingers through his hair and whispering nonsense into his ear. She didn't know what to say. No words could take away the pain he felt.

"Will?" Jack's voice cut through the air and Will sat up so quickly, his head almost collided with Emma's chin. Will was always the one who liked to be strong for other people. Knowing his father had seen him at his most vulnerable was not something that Will wanted. But as Emma knew all too well, you can only keep up a façade until a certain point before you break.

"Emma, could you give us a minute?" Jack asked as he moved into the room.

"Of course," she whispered, giving Will's hand a squeeze before she stood. As she turned out of the room, she caught Jack taking her place and putting an arm around his son.

In all her years as a guidance counselor, she had never felt more helpless or out of place.

She wandered back into her bedroom and rooted through her bag for some hand sanitizer. When her fingers came into contact with her phone, she gasped and pulled it out. _Carl._ Though Carl and Will got along fine, Carl was no stranger to their history and knowing that she was spending at least a weekend in his childhood home was probably not the best news she could give him.

She made her way down the stairs and inhaled – the house smelled like cinnamon and apples. Pictures dotted the end tables, marking important life benchmarks and small life moments that didn't want to be forgotten. Will's parents made a beautiful couple on their wedding day. He had inherited his father's curls and his mother's smile.

She flipped open her phone and began to punch in the numbers she knew by heart, but a painting above the fireplace stopped her. It was beautiful: a lake at sunset that lacked the typical orange, yellow, and red hues. Instead, it was swirling blues and purples and greens, creating an arresting but haunting work of art.

Will's voice behind her caused her to jump. "There's a reason my father called her 'Doodle."

Emma spun around, her eyes wide. "Your mother did this?"

Will nodded, "She was quite an artist."

Emma stepped closer to admire the brushstrokes. "Why'd she stop?"

Will smiled wryly. "Apparently, I was quite the trouble maker. She couldn't keep up with me and the hobby at the same time." He sighed. "She chose me." He plopped down on the couch and closed his eyes. "Dad's resting."

"Good." Emma held up the phone. "I have to make a quick call."

He squinted one eye open. "Carl?"

"Yeah, Carl." Guilt flooded through her but the truly troubling part was that she didn't know which she felt guiltier for: being with Will or calling Carl.

She pushed the front door open and held the phone up. After a few rings, his voice echoed in her ear.

"Hey there, I was just about to call you."

"Oh yeah?" She couldn't help the grin that blossomed on her face.

"Yeah. I was going to ask if you wanted to go to the movies tonight. There's a new one that's supposed to be good." Carl had been trying to get her to go to the movies for weeks. Restaurants were one thing, but movies? God knew what was crawling on those seats.

"Actually, Carl, that's why I'm calling. Something happened and I won't be able to see you this weekend."

Immediately, his tone changed. "What happened? Are you all right?"

"No, no I'm all right. It's Will."

"Will." His tone changed again. Though he had gotten very good at hiding it, Emma had begun to hear the tiniest hint of exasperation whenever Will's name invaded their conversation.

"His mother died today. I'm with him and his family."

"Oh geez." The exasperation was gone and Emma could tell that Carl felt bad for having any trace of it there in the first place. "Tell him I'm sorry, will you?"

"Sure." Emma glanced towards the house and had to fight the urge to hang up the phone and run back in. "Listen I have to go."

"Of course. If you need anything, let me know."

"I will. Thanks, Carl." Emma snapped the phone shut and dialed Principal Figgins, informing him that both she and Will would be out at least until Monday.

When she opened the front door ten minutes later, she was greeted with gentle snoring coming from the couch. Smiling, she made her way over to Will, where he had passed out in exactly the same position she had left him in: head leaning back, foot propped up on the coffee table. He looked so peaceful lying there. Gone were the lines of pain and worry from his face as she gently brushed her fingers across his cheek.

As Emma looked around, she could easily imagine a curly-haired little boy running through the house. She followed his imaginary footsteps and glanced out the back to see the remains of a broken tree house in the large elm and a tire swing hanging from its largest branch.

"We kept it up because we thought we were getting a grandchild."

Emma jumped when Jack came up behind her.

"I haven't had the heart yet to take it down."

Emma hesitated for the slightest of moments before placing a hand on the older man's arm. Jack smiled and continued.

"It took him two weeks to tell us. Whether he was trying to protect our hearts or his, I'm not really sure. All I know is that we got a phone call at 3 in the morning. He could barely speak, he was crying so hard. I have a feeling he was drunk too, but you gotta do something to get the courage, right?" Jack smiled down at her. "Apparently, a friend him told to pick up the phone, so he did. I have a feeling that friend was you."

Emma blushed and ducked her head, giving him all the answer he needed.

"We don't really talk about it, but while he's sleeping, I wanted to thank you for watching out for my boy. Especially during that time."

Emma opened her mouth to reply but nothing came out.

"I know you mean an awful lot to him and I can see he means a lot to you. So thank you."

"Of course," she managed to squeak out.

"Now," he quietly clapped his hands together, "where are my manners? Can I get you something to drink?" He smiled and she could see Will in his features.

"Water would be fine. Thanks."

"Water it is." Jack moved into the kitchen and Emma drifted to the couch to watch Will quietly snore. "I swear when he sleeps, he looks ten years old again."

Emma looked up at Jack as he opened cabinets. "What was he like?"

Jack chuckled. "Trouble. Trouble from the moment his mother and I found him in the dryer."

Emma gasped. "In the dryer?"

"He wasn't quite two and his mother was doing laundry." He gazed off to some nondescript point on the wall behind Emma. "Evidently, she didn't shut the dryer door all the way and next thing we knew, we were running around the neighborhood yelling for him."

"How long did it take you to find him?" She asked as Jack handed her the glass of water.

"About an hour. We heard a thump and a giggle come from the laundry room, opened the door and there he was, hidden among the dry towels."

Emma laughed and covered her mouth in an attempt to muffle the noise. Jack took a seat at the dining room table and Emma joined him. He was easy to talk to, just like his son.

"I always imagined Will being a good kid. Following the rules to a T."

Jack laughed. "Oh God no. I think that's why he became a teacher. To make up for all of the mischief he caused as a child."

"What else did he do?" Emma was hungry for information, for any insight into the man that had stolen her heart for the better part of three years.

"Painted the cat when he was three. When he was eight, he put his elbow through the wall when he fell down the stairs. If you move that bookcase," he pointed to the foyer, "you can still see the dent. He fell out of the tree house when he was 11 and got a concussion. Crashed his car when he was 17. Adopted a stray dog and tried to keep it a secret from us. He hid the puppy in his room. Needless to say, we eventually found out."

"Hey I hid that dog for a good two weeks before you noticed."

Both Jack and Emma looked to the couch to see Will standing and stretching.

"Dad, you're making me look bad."

"The girl has a right to know about your so-called ingenuity."

"Hey, half of that _was _ingenuity."

"And the other half?"

Will remained silent but smiled. Emma was getting dizzy from following the conversation back and forth.

"Clumsiness?"

Jack snorted. "Something like that."

Emma glanced between the two, happy to see smiles grace their similar features, even if it was just for a fleeting moment. As Emma knew, it was better to focus on the happy times than dwell on the sad. Self -preservation.

Will clapped his father on the shoulder and stole a sip of his water as the humor slowly dissipated from the air. "What are you feeling up to for dinner?"

His father shook his head. "I'll cook."

"Dad, no you won't, I'll cook."

"Neither of you will." Both men fell silent as they stared at Emma. "I'll cook." She stood and crossed her arms. "No arguing."

"Yes, ma'am," they replied in unison.

Emma moved around the kitchen, pulling out ingredients for lasagna. Will tried to help but Emma shooed him away. She seemed to know her way around, as if she had been there before. There was something oddly comforting about the Schuester house. It was clean but homey. Lived-in. It had seen a life and held countless stories within its walls.

Jack had made some excuse about having to run to the store. He returned ten minutes later and placed a container of soy ricotta cheese on the counter, next to the noodles and the pasta sauce.

"Like I said, I've heard a lot about you," he whispered as he passed.

Emma stared after him slack-jawed before her gaze landed on Will. He sat at the dining room table, trying to fix a clock that belonged to his mother. He had opened the face and was tinkering inside with a screwdriver. She knew that he probably no idea what he was doing. He could sing and dance the pants off anyone she knew, but he wasn't exactly the handiest of craftsmen. It took him two hours to fix the jammed file cabinet in her office.

Still…

She loved that he tried.


	3. Explosions

_Explosions_

The sun peeking through the crack in the curtains warmed Emma's cheek and she rolled over, burrowing her face in the pillow. Blue. The pillow was blue. Emma's pillows weren't blue. Sitting up and looking around, recognition started to seep in: Will's mother, the drive, soy cheese lasagna. Emma threw the covers back and dug her toes into the plush cream-colored carpet.

Will had laid towels out on the bureau for her the night before and she could see the exhaustion settle on his shoulders as he had left to finish calling friends and family. She couldn't imagine having to call someone to tell them a loved one died. When Will poked his head in at 2:30 in the morning to check on her, she had pretended to be asleep. He didn't need to know that she had waited until she heard his footsteps head to bed before letting herself drift off.

Hugging a green towel to her nightgown, she looked up and down the hallway before tiptoeing towards the bathroom. Will's door was cracked and she a heard a heavy sigh and a thump as she passed. Stopping, she gently knocked on the door and let it drift open.

"Will?"

His forehead rested on the tiny desk in the corner, hands clasped behind his neck, the laptop in front of him categorizing different types of floral arrangements. The desk was so small, his pajama-clad knees bumped the drawers.

"I can't do it."

She stepped further into the room and let the towel she was holding fall to his bed.

"Do what?"

"Pick flowers for my mother's funeral. I can't do it."

She placed a hand on his shoulder and peered at the screen.

"Why don't I do it?" Picking flowers seemed easy enough. Though she didn't like them in her own apartment (dead petals, dirty water, pollen), Emma loved creating imaginary bouquets with color-coordinated blooms.

"Really?"

She nodded and his eyes expressed the gratitude he couldn't voice. Realization settled in that both were wearing outfits neither had seen the other in since Emma went sprinting out of his apartment barefoot.

Emma cleared her throat, "Anything, um, anything in particular you're looking for?"

Will's shoulder shrugged under her hand. "She liked pink. Anything pink."

Placing a chaste kiss to his head, she picked up her towel again. "I'll take care of it."

The hot water steamed up the bathroom and Emma let it run down the tight muscles in her back. She always carried her stress in her shoulders. As a child, her mother always told her that if she didn't calm down, her shoulders would end up near her ears and stay that way. Her mother. She missed her mother. The thought of losing her brought Emma's hand swiftly to her chest to cover the pang she felt in her heart. Knowing that it was just a fraction of the pain Will was feeling made her stomach knot. She finally let herself cry under the protection of the water beating down on her.

The house was eerily quiet in the early morning sun. Emma descended the stairs opting for the rarely worn jeans and flats. Will sat hunched at the dining room table, still in his pajamas and still trying to fix his mother's clock.

"Hi."

He glanced up and smiled. It was weary, like someone who had seen too many nights and not enough days.

"Hi," he responded.

"Where's your Dad?"

"Upstairs. It's been… a rough morning." He tried to smile. "I think it finally sunk in for him, you know… waking up in an empty bed."

Emma nodded but didn't dare comment. Only after she noticed the bags under Will's eyes did she ask, "Have you eaten?"

"You made dinner. I'll make pancakes."

They talked about the various family members that would be arriving the following day – aunts and uncles from east coast, cousins from the west – the arrangements that still had to be made, and how to fix a clock that's been broken for the better part of ten years.

Will took care of the dishes and Emma powered up the computer, determined to find the most amazing arrangement of pink flowers Will had ever seen. Finally feeling happy with her selection and making all of the delivery arrangements with the information Will gave her, she wandered back into the living room as Will came down the steps, hair wet, buttoning up his shirt.

Reaching the bottom, he looked at her and sighed. A comfortable silence settled and neither felt the need to break it. She got lost staring into his eyes. Her mind wanted to remind herself that those eyes did not belong to Carl, that they had no right to drink her in as they did now. But she let them, because her heart rarely agreed with her head.

"Thank you, Em. If my father and I were left to our own devices, there would be no flowers, no arrangements… nothing but a trashcan full of empty gin bottles." He walked forward and cupped her face in his hand. "You're saving me from myself." Letting go, he nodded to the door. "Walk with me."

And so they walked. As a guidance counselor, it was Emma's job to know when people needed to talk. At this moment, Will was one of those people. As he guided her through the small town, he pointed out the ice cream shop his mother took him to, the park where he learned to ride a bike, the shed where he first played spin-the-bottle.

After an hour, they came to a point where there was no clear path, no more sights to point out, no destination to reach. They just wandered as conversation drifted from Will's childhood to his mother and he spoke of everything he had been holding in for the past 24 hours: How he'd miss the way she gave the perfect hug, even when soused out of her mind; how he should have accepted his parents' invitation to come home for his wedding anniversary instead of drinking himself into oblivion alone; how he wished the last thing he said to her was "I love you" instead of "I gotta go."

As they made their way back to the house, he reached over and threaded his fingers through hers. She didn't listen to her head as it warned her that they were blurring the lines between platonic and not. But the warnings in her head only made her hold on tighter.

They found themselves back in front of the house without being quite sure how they got there. Will's gentle tug guided her up the stairs and into the living room.

"Dad?"

No answer. Will turned to her and his gaze swept from her hair over her nose and settled on her lips. Emma knew it was coming. She should have stopped it but she'd be lying if she said she didn't want it. His eyes closed and his lips connected with hers. The kiss was soft, as if she'd break if he pressed too hard. Her hands gripped his shoulders and he twirled her hair between his fingers.

"Emma…" he breathed.

His voice stirred something in her and the rational part of her brain finally decided to speak up. "Wait, wait. We can't…" she panted. "We can't do this."

Will's face fell as her words took hold. "Emma you can't keep doing this me."

Emma was feeling many things, but anger suddenly jumped to the forefront. "You can't keep doing this to _me._ I am with Carl. I am _dating_ Carl."

Will ran a hand through his hair. "Yes, Carl! You're dating Carl! Trust me, Emma, Carl's name is not one I'm likely to forget."

"Then please respect that relationship."

"How can I when you keep looking at me like that."

Emma stiffened, as if caught. "Like what?"

He pointed, "That!"

Emma turned away from him, knowing he was right but wanting to prove him wrong. "There is no look."

"Do you love him?"

The question tumbled from his lips so quickly, it took her a second to process what exactly he had asked. "That is absolutely none of your business."

He turned away from her and placed his hands on the mantel, breathing her name out in a heavy sigh. "Do you know what my days consist of now?" He turned back around and held her gaze, as if he needed her rapt attention for what he was about to say. "I sit across from you and I ask you about problems I've made up and smile at your always good advice to my non-existent troubles because it's all I'm _allowed _to do. Because I can't talk to you about my real problems. I can't tell you that it's hard for me to breathe when you walk into the room. That I have to sit on my hands when I'm in your office because all I want to do is reach out and tuck your hair behind your ear. I have to do all of that because you're with Carl and he's…" He pinched the bridge of his nose, "Jesus I even _like_ the man, but before I can admit what a really great guy Carl is, I have to remind myself that, at the end of the day, it's him you go home with." He choked on the words, "And it kills me, Emma." His hand fell to his chest and gripped his shirt over his heart. "It absolutely kills me."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Will's father enter, survey the situation, and beat a hasty retreat. It would have been comical had the blood not been rushing in her ears.

"Now you know how it feels," she spat. "Do you have _any _idea how hard it was for me to see you with her? To remind myself that you were a _married _man? In the beginning, it was easy." Her voice trembled. "But over time, I learned how to fool myself. I learned to pretend that your ring didn't mean anything; that you weren't going home to her; that your _constant_ flirtations were real. But when I heard you were having a baby…" She reached up and wiped a tear away. "I couldn't pretend anymore. And coming to terms with that nearly broke me."

Anger and love waged war in his eyes, but he remained silent so she continued.

"I know you're hurting. And I am so sorry for what you're going through. But I am _happy. _Please respect that."

"Are you?" he countered.

He knew her too well. And she had no answer for him.

He let out a bitter laugh. "I don't even know why you're here."

And with that, he turned and walked out the front door, letting it slam behind him. Emma flinched but remained rooted the floor, staring at the spot where Will had just been. She was feeling so many things, she didn't know which to focus on. Pain? Certainly. Love? Possibly. Anger? Absolutely.

"Emma?"

Jack's voice frightened her out of her stupor and she stared at the man whose son made her life both heaven and hell. It was pointless to wipe the tears from her cheeks. She knew he had heard everything.

"Jack, I'm sorry we just… we were…" She ran out of words, but he didn't seem to need any. He opened his arms; an invitation, which under normal circumstances, she'd be too neurotic to accept, but she fell into his embrace and buried her face in his sweater.

"It's okay. It'll be okay," he whispered into her shaking shoulders. She shook her head and took a deep, shuddering breath. "Yes it will."

Emma pulled away and looked up at him with puffy eyes. "I'm not so sure about that."

Jack guided her to the table and pulled out a chair. She sat down as he went to the kitchen and brought over a glass of water and a bottle of wine.

"You've put up with my son during some of his darkest times. I think that deserves a drink," he said as he poured two glasses.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," she sniffed.

Jack shrugged. "Nothing I haven't experienced before. My fights with Will's mother were legendary," he said as he handed her a glass.

"Really?"

Jack nodded. "Once we almost burned down the house." Emma's eyes widened, but Jack gestured around them. "Rest assured, it's still standing."

Emma laughed and then covered her mouth, as if laughing at a time like this was some major faux pas.

"We fought fiercely because we loved fiercely."

She knew what he was implying and she realized it was as simple as that. How a man could offer such wisdom at a time when he was feeling such heartbreak was beyond her. Her respect for him grew and she raised her glass to clink with his.

"I'm afraid he gets his temper from his mother. He'll come back feeling guilty later. That he gets from me." Jack smiled. "Still, I'm sorry for what he said."

Emma wiped her eyes. "I'm not. I deserved it." She bit her lip as she tried to put on a convincing smile. "But so did he."

"I'm sure."

They sat quietly at the table sipping wine, Emma occasionally hiccupping as she tried to calm down.

She had never fought with Will. Sure she had yelled at him in the teacher's lounge and called him a slut in front of their colleagues, but he hadn't yelled back. It didn't count as a fight if only one person was doing the fighting.

Three glasses of wine later, Emma was red-faced and giggling as she recounted the story of how Will tried to teach Finn how to dance and ended up falling off the stage. Jack dabbed at his eyes, which watered from laughter. It felt good to tell him stories about Will. Over the past day and a half, she had learned all about Will's childhood and the trouble he caused, but recounting a story to Will's father made her feel like she was sharing a part of Will only she knew about. She also knew it was this sort of thinking that got her into trouble in the first place.

The front door opened and their laughter immediately died down. Will stood in the foyer, staring at them. He was a mess: his eyes were bloodshot, his hair was mussed. Emma couldn't discern the look on his face. It was half surprise, half hurt.

"Will?" Jack stood, but Will ignored him and went up the stairs. "Will!"

Emma's head fell forward into her hands. "That was not how I wanted that to go."

"I'll go talk to him."

She grabbed his arm. "No, don't!" As much as she hated the thought of Will being angry with her, she forced the words out of her mouth. "Maybe… maybe this is for the best." She sighed. "He's right. I don't know what I'm doing here either. It was an impulsive decision. It probably wasn't the right one."

Jack sat back down and forced her to look at him. "He needed you and you weren't going to leave him alone. He knows that. He's just stubborn." Jack took her hand. "Emma, I've known him for 33 years. Nothing makes his eyes light up like they do when he sees you. He's hurting right now. And even though his relationship with you might not be what he wants it to be, it's better than not having you at all." He tapped her chin and smiled. "Give him a chance."

Emma sighed with resignation. "I always do."

After promising Jack not to run back to Lima in the middle of the night, Emma trudged up the stairs and stopped outside her bedroom. She stared at his closed door, wondering if he was listening for her footsteps as she had the night before. It took all of her will power to not knock on the door and apologize. But as soon as the thought crossed her mind, she remembered the words he said and the pain they inflicted.

If he could be stubborn, then so could she.

At least that's what she kept telling herself.


	4. Pretenses

_Pretenses_

Emma awoke to the sounds of raised voices and she stumbled from her bed, grabbing a hold of the nightstand before she fell down. She had slept maybe a collective three hours between the guilt she felt for yelling at Will and the heartbreak she felt at Will's response.

Sticking her head out into the hallway, she saw that both Jack and Will's bedroom doors were open so she made her way to the top of the stairs and then froze.

"Why on earth would you ever say that to her?"

_Jack._ Emma's brow furrowed. It didn't take a genius to figure out she was the topic of conversation.

"I don't know! I wasn't… I wasn't thinking."

_Will. _Emma could almost see him running his hand through his hair, a habit that she had grown to love. Sitting down on the top step, she continued to listen.

"You know why she's here. She loves you."

Emma's heart stopped. Was she so obvious? _No._ Emma shook her head. She didn't love Will. _Right?_

"Not in the way I want her to."

Emma could hear Jack sigh and she risked scooting down another step to hear his response.

"Will… I don't need to tell you how Emma feels about you. To figure that out, all you have to do is look at her. She stayed with you in your hour of need, what more - "

"She keeps…" Will trailed off and Emma had to bite her lip to keep from yelling at him to continue.

"What, son, what does she keep doing?"

Emma slid down a step further.

"I feel like a toy, one she comes back to when she's bored with the other."

Emma gasped and slammed a hand over her mouth. Could he really think that of her? Did she really treat him that way? When Carl had called off their second date due to an emergency root canal, Emma cleaned the Spanish classroom, just for the hell of it. When Carl had made a harmless comment about her OCD, Emma called Will and asked him if she was crazy. When Carl got held up meeting her at school, she sat in at glee practice and let Will walk her to her car.

The realization hit her like a truck and, without waiting for Jack's response, she ran back down the hall and locked herself in the bathroom.

An hour and four full body scrubs later, Emma emerged from the bathroom buttoning up her cardigan and combing her fingers through her gently curled hair. There was still no activity upstairs. Will was either still roaming the house in his pajamas or he had gotten ready at some early hour in an effort to avoid her. Though he had a habit of doing the former, Emma assumed it was the latter.

"Will!" The voice was unfamiliar and Emma frowned. There was another woman in the house. Making her way to the stop of the stairs, she glanced down in time to see a woman wrap her arms around Will. It wasn't until she pulled away that Emma realized this must be Will's aunt.

"Oh sweetheart," she said as she cupped his face. She had round, kind features and dirty blonde hair, just like Will's mom.

"Will!" Whoever yelled this time had trouble with "L's" so it sounded like "Wiw!"

Emma saw movement to the left before a little girl had latched herself onto Will's leg.

"Hey, Munchkin," Will said as he picked her up.

"I'm sorry, John and Anna are stuck in Mexico. We were babysitting," his aunt said.

"No, no. It's okay. I'm glad she's here," Will said as he buried his face in the child's hair and sighed deeply. "I've missed her."

"Nana bought me a black dress."

Will smiled. "Yeah? I bet you look beautiful in it."

"Oh, Will, What a year for you." His aunt wrapped her arms around him again, nearly squishing the little girl.

Will nodded in a way that gave Emma the impression that his aunt had a habit of saying inappropriate things, but she meant them in the best sense possible. Deciding to save Will from more pity, she finally descended the stairs and made her presence known.

Will's aunt was the first to notice her. "Well, hello. Will," she smacked him, "why didn't you tell us you had company."

Emma could practically see Will stiffen and he held the toddler a little tighter in his arms, as if for protection.

"Aunt Joanie, this is, uh, my friend, Emma." The hesitation before 'my friend' was brief but to Emma, it felt like a lifetime. Emma held out her hand, something she had been working on with strangers, but Joanie bypassed her hand and crushed her in a hug. Emma should have seen it coming.

"Thank you for watching over my brother-in-law and nephew."

Emma blushed, "Oh I haven't been much of a help."

"Of course you have." Will's words were sincere. Emma could tell by the pain in the eyes as he said them. Clearing his throat, he said, "And this is Charlotte, my cousin's daughter."

"Hi," came the shy reply from the face buried in Will's shoulder.

"Hi," Emma replied. "And how old are you?"

Charlotte held out four fingers before giggling and pressing her face into Will's neck again.

"She's shy."

"No I'm not," came the muffled reply.

They laughed and, as Will led them into the living room, Emma saw Jack on the porch talking with an older man, presumably Will's uncle.

"My son and his wife are vacationing in Mexico. They couldn't get a flight out in time," Joanie said as she sat on the couch. Will attempted to place Charlotte on the couch next to her grandmother, but she held on like a monkey.

"All right, all right." Will stood back up and hiked her back on his hip. "Let's go get drinks for everyone."

The charade he was playing was a good one, but not once did Will meet Emma's eyes. For the sake of his aunt and his cousin, he was pretending that everything was okay between them. Emma had no choice but to play along – though she wished she didn't have to play at all.

"Iced tea okay, Aunt Joanie?"

"Iced tea's great. If you have anything a little stronger to put in it, even better."

"Emma?"

"Regular iced tea would be just fine."

Will placed Charlotte on the kitchen counter as he opened the refrigerator and pulled out the pitcher of iced tea, before reaching below in the cabinet for a bottle of vodka.

Emma could vaguely hear Charlotte recounting her scuffle with a boy on the playground before Joanie pulled her attention away.

"So, Emma, how do you know Will?

"Oh, we work together at McKinley High. I'm the guidance counselor." _And we dated briefly but he broke my heart and then I broke his. _Emma decided to leave that part out.

"Oh yes, I think Molly mentioned you a few times." Joanie smiled to show she heard nothing but good things.

_Molly. _It had occurred to Emma that she hadn't even known Will's mother's name. Will returned from the kitchen, Charlotte trailing behind, and placed the drinks on the coffee table.

"So I hear Charlotte's been practicing that right hook I taught her."

"Will, dear, was it really necessary for her to learn that?" Joanie brushed the curls back from Charlotte's face.

"Of course it was. Look, it's already come in handy."

"It sure has!" Charlotte chimed in as she reached for the iced tea closest to her.

All three adults collectively lunged for the drink, "No!"

Charlotte's eyes grew as wide as saucers as Will took the drink from her hand. "That's Nana's iced tea. This one's yours," he said as he handed her a plastic cup.

"Oh. I thought Nana and I both had the same thing."

"Not quite, Squirt." Will ruffled her hair.

"So, honey, how are you holding up?" Joanie reached across and patted Will on his knee, after taking a long sip of her iced tea.

Will inhaled deeply and shrugged. "I'm honestly not quite sure. Everyday gets a little bit better. Wednesday, I was a disaster. Luckily I had help."

Joanie smiled at Emma as Charlotte pulled Will down to whisper in his ear, glancing at Emma as she did. "Yes, she does," he replied to whatever Charlotte had said.

"She does what?" Emma asked, as Charlotte turned pink.

"She likes your hair. She thinks it's pretty," Will responded as Charlotte climbed onto his lap, trying not to spill her iced tea all over him.

"Thank you, Charlotte. Your hair is very pretty too. I wish I had curls like yours."

Charlotte giggled and sipped her iced tea. Emma tried to catch Will's eye but he stared at the coffee table. Upon closer examination, Emma realized that, had Terry not been lying, the daughter they might have had probably would have looked a good deal like little girl in his arms. Emma felt a pang her chest watching him gently brush the curls back from the little girl's forehead. He would have made a wonderful father.

They were soon joined by Jack and Will's Uncle Rob and Emma excused herself while the four remaining adults discussed the funeral plans for tomorrow. Retreating to her room, Emma placed her hands on the dresser and exhaled. He wouldn't look at her and it was killing Emma. All she wanted to do was grab him and apologize for leading him on, for letting him kiss her, and taking advantage of him in such a vulnerable state. Emma knew that the entirety of the blame needn't fall completely on her, but she figured any guilt she could spare Will, she would. Sure he had made mistakes in the past. He had kissed Shelby and slept with April. He had tried to emulate Carl but only succeeded in walking further away from the man Emma fell in love with. And what did that say about her? The more like Carl Will became, the less she liked him. Go figure.

It was a disturbing realization and she decided to push it to the back of her brain and ponder it when there wasn't a house full of people to hear her cries.

Yes, he had made mistakes, but he had tried to make up for them. That is, until he realized Emma wasn't paying attention to any of his attempts so he gave up and stopped altogether. _I feel like a toy_, he had said. The words still echoed in Emma's heart.

"Hi."

Emma jumped and looked in the mirror to see Charlotte standing in the doorway. "Hi."

"Did they kick you out too?"

"What?" Emma watched as Charlotte climbed on the bed and let her feet dangle over the side. She was oddly okay with the little girl sitting on her bed and she mentally added one more thing to the list she had to tell her therapist about.

"They told me to go play upstairs while they plan Aunt Molly's goodbye party."

Emma raised her eyebrows. "Her goodbye party?"

"Uh huh. Aunt Molly died and she's going away forever. So we're throwing her a goodbye party and I get to wear my black dress."

Well, that was one way to think about it.

"Are you gonna marry Will?"

"What?" Emma's heart nearly stopped. Or skipped. Or both.

"Are you gonna marry Will?

"Uh no. Will and I aren't… we aren't…" she trailed off as Charlotte looked expectantly up at her.

"We aren't dating."

"Oh. Well, I hope you do. I like you."

Emma's cheeks warmed. "I like you too."

"There's a boy named Bobby in my pre-K class who wants to date me. But I punched him in the face and got a time-out."

"Oh."

"Please don't punch Will."

Emma laughed. "I promise I won't."

"Charlotte!" Jack called up for her.

"Coming!" she replied, before hopping off the bed and holding her arms open for Emma to pick her.

"Oh. Okay." This was something knew and different. Emma hadn't held a child since, well, ever. But after giving herself a little mental pep talk, she reached out and hoisted Charlotte onto her hip. Her little arms wrapped around Emma's neck and they made their way downstairs.

All four adults in the living room stopped what they were doing when Emma and Charlotte entered. Joanie and Jack had warm smiles on their faces while Will just stared at them a little dumbstruck.

"We missed your company," Jack said as he approached them. "So we decided to bump cocktail hour up. We figured we could all use it."

"What's a cocktail?" Charlotte asked.

"Cranberry juice," Will answered. "It says so right on the bottle."

Charlotte slid down Emma and wandered over to Will. "Show me."

"Please."

"Show me, please."

"Much better." Will smiled as he swung her over his shoulder.

Jack led Emma over to the couch where Rob engaged her in conversation about McKinley. Being a high school science teacher himself, he was hungry for information.

"Emma is the best guidance counselor McKinley's ever had," Jack said.

"Oh gosh, that's not true."

"According to Will, you are."

"According to Will, what?" Will asked as he handed his father and uncle a gin and tonic and Emma a glass of wine.

"Nothing," Emma whispered as she looked down. Will looked a little hurt but didn't press further.

Two glasses of wine later, Emma sat on the couch and let her eyes close. Jack and Rob were sitting in the backyard smoking cigars, Charlotte was sitting quietly on the floor playing with a Barbie, and Joanie was upstairs picking out an outfit to bury Molly in. It was a morbid task, but someone had to do it. Will had been wandering the house, staring at pictures, playing with Charlotte, but he had disappeared and Emma didn't have the energy to find him. She wasn't sure he wanted to be found anyway.

Laughter filtered through from the backyard as Jack recounted how Molly got hit on by Josh Groban. Emma smiled at the memory. Will had showed up in her office the following day saying, "You will not believe what happened to my mother last night." That was when he used to still come to her office. Back when she was still the first person he'd look for when he had something to say.

When she heard Joanie say, "Hey, kiddo," she finally realized that Will was on the front porch. With all the windows open, voices blew back and forth on the breeze.

"Hey, yourself," he replied.

"I have a feeling that something other than the obvious is bothering you."

Emma sat up a little straighter and took a nervous sip of her wine. She knew she shouldn't be listening, but God help her, she couldn't leave.

"I'm fine." He paused. "As fine as I can be."

"So you and Emma…

"We're just friends," he interrupted and sighed. "Sometimes, I'm not even sure we're that."

Emma bit her lip to keep it from wobbling.

"You're at least 'just friends," Joanie replied. "She wouldn't be here otherwise."

"That's what people keep telling me."

Emma scooted to the edge of the couch and dared a look out of the window. She watched as Joanie narrowed her eyes, inspecting him. "You had a fight."

Will was silent but he slowly nodded. Joanie stood and kissed him on the head.

"For once, I won't pry into your love life, sweetheart. But don't let it go on too long. I can see it's eating both of you up."

Emma quickly stood and set her wine glass on the table in an effort to make a hasty retreat. She didn't want to be caught eavesdropping. But she wasn't quick enough and as she tried to rush through the foyer, Joanie opened the front door. The two women stared at each other, Emma blushing, Joanie smiling.

As the older woman passed, she gave Emma a nudge towards the door. "Go on."

Taking a deep breath, Emma steeled for the inevitable confrontation. They couldn't hide from each other forever. His shoulders tensed as she pushed open the screen door. It was as if he knew it was her just by the squeak of the hinge. She brushed off the porch and took a seat next to him. The night was still, no wind, no noise. She stared out over the grass, refusing to look to her right.

It was as if they were playing some twisted game of 'chicken.' Neither saying a word to see which one would break first. After five minutes of painful silence, Will stood up to head back inside.

"You terrify me, Will." The words left her mouth before she had a chance to stop them.

His head snapped up. "Excuse me?"

Emma shifted her body to look back at him, but her gaze remained on his shoes. "The way I feel about you, it's terrifying. The thought of… losing you, of never seeing you smile again, or hearing you laugh or sing. Just the thought of you not _being_ hurts like you wouldn't believe." Emma's voice betrayed her and she turned back again. "We have to stop. I hate that you can't look at me. I hate that you won't smile at me. You won't even speak to me." Emma swallowed her tears. "This isn't… this isn't us, Will."

For a terrifying second, Emma thought that Will was going to continue on his way back inside, but finally two words left his lips.

"I'm sorry." He walked forward and took a seat next to her again.

"For what?"

"I never should have kissed you. I was out of line."

Emma could have laughed but she didn't. "I didn't try to stop you."

"But still… I like to think I'm a gentleman, but I haven't been behaving like one recently." Will scuffed the tip of his shoe into the wooden step.

Emma's heart was still heavy. "But I… The way I've acted around you, I don't know why you put up with it," Emma said as she hid her face behind her hands. "You must think I'm the biggest tease in the world."

"You know I don't." He turned her face towards him with his finger. "I'm not waiting for you. I mean, I am. But I'm also not. I know that there's a good chance you'll never see me the way you used to. You may stay with Carl and, though the thought destroys me, it's something I'll accept when the time comes. But if you do leave Carl… and you do realize you feel the same way about me, I know with every fiber of my being that you will have been worth the wait."

Emma bowed her head to hide her tears.

"I've been patient. Or at least I've tried to be, but yesterday my patience slipped and that was completely my fault. Not yours."

She finally looked at him through watery eyes. "Do you want me to go?"

"No." He grabbed her hand. "God, no." He touched his forehead to hers and placed a chaste kiss on her palm. "I would not have survived the past two days without you. I mean that." He tilted her chin up, forcing her to make eye contact. "Please stay."

"Okay."

They remained in that position, knees pressed against each other, foreheads touching. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Emma pulled away and wiped at her eyes.

"So where does this leave us?"

Emma held her breath as he looked out across the yard.

If only Will's answer had been the one she was hoping for.


	5. Contradictions

_Contradictions_

The sun was hiding and the clouds rolled in, dusting the morning with rainy mist – typical funeral weather. The house had been quiet: no creaks, no bangs, no voices… as if in mourning.

Emma zipped up the side of the black dress she had hastily thrown in her suitcase three days prior. Smoothing down the front, she stared at the mirror. She hated black.

"_So where does this leave us?" _

She tightened the backs of her simple pearl earrings and slipped into her pumps.

"_Where we were, I think. You're dating Carl."_

She straightened her stockings and help slipped the little back dress over Charlotte's squirming body. The little girl had insisted that only Emma help her get ready.

"_You look disappointed." _

She pulled Charlotte's hair back into a bun and pinned the wisps back.

"_No, not disappointed, just…" _

Emma hadn't known what to say as she sat on the porch with Will. He was right. Though they had gotten many things out in the open, their situations hadn't changed. Emma was still with Carl. She didn't love Will. She was also in denial, a feeling she had grown very familiar with since Will Schuester first came into her life.

"How's that?" Emma asked, picking Charlotte up so she could see her reflection in the mirror. Charlotte nodded her approval and Emma put her down. "Good, now let's go see what Will thinks."

Charlotte reached for her hand as they walked down the hall. "Everyone is sad today."

"Well, it's a sad day," Emma said as she squeezed the little girl's hand.

Will's door was open and he stood in front of the mirror in a dark suit, fumbling with his tie.

"Will, how do we look?" Charlotte asked as she bounced in the room.

"Beautiful." He smiled at his cousin and then up at Emma as she walked up to him and took the tie out of his hands.

"You looked like you were having some trouble," she said in answer to his silent question and they both looked down at his shaking hands. "How are you?" she whispered in his ear.

"I think I've been pretending that this day wouldn't actually come."

She looped the final loop and pulled it snug against his neck, straightening it.

"We'll get through it."

He nodded and placed his hands on her hips, as if drawing strength from her.

"Will, are we going to say goodbye to Aunt Molly now?"

Will let go of Emma and crouched down in front of the little girl, nodding.

"But I don't want to say goodbye," she said, her lower lip trembling.

"I know, Munchkin, neither do I." He pulled Charlotte to his chest and Emma placed her hand on his back.

It was going to be a rough day.

The church was empty when they arrived, save for the coffin at the front. As they walked through the doors, Will grasped Emma's hand and whispered, "Beautiful flowers, Em. Thank you."

She smiled and had to admit they did look pretty good. They stood at the back, Emma's hand in Will's left, Charlotte's in his right. Jack came up behind his son and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Let's go."

Will silently nodded and squeezed Emma's hand. She squeezed back before Will guided Charlotte's hand into hers.

"Stay here with Emma, okay Squirt? I'll be back."

Charlotte nodded, the size of the church and intensity of the moment silencing the precocious four-year-old.

Emma watched as Jack put his arm around Will and father and son walked to the front to say goodbye to the most important woman in their lives. Emma hated funerals. Though who really liked them anyway? Still, she could barely handle the living, much less the dead.

A hand touched her shoulder and she turned to see Joanie and Rob standing behind her. After about ten minutes, Will and Jack moved to the side and Joanie and Rob made their way down the aisle to say their goodbyes.

Emma desperately wanted to go to Will. He looked so broken sitting in the front pew attempting to collect himself before the other guests arrived. Rob came back to grab Charlotte so Emma made her way up the side aisle and slid into the pew next to Will.

Will kept his head down, but grasped her hand tightly. "You're my best friend, you know that?"

"I do," Emma said as she kissed the back of his hand. " And the feeling's mutual."

The service was short but Emma had lost all sense of time as Will stood to give the eulogy. She had tried to focus on his words but she could only watch the pain flicker across his face or listen to the occasional waver in his voice. When he sat back down, he pressed as close to her as he could, thigh to thigh, and gripped her hand again. She felt his palm shaking in her own and she brushed her thumb over his knuckles. Eventually the shaking subsided and he relaxed against the wooden bench.

So lost was she in the feel of his weight against hers, that the sound of people standing and making their way out of the church startled her.

"Time to go," Will whispered in her ear as he stood, his hand still in hers. She could feel the family members' eyes on her, all wondering who the unfamiliar redhead was that Will clung tight to. Emma didn't realize that the church had filled up so much. As friends and family filed out, Charlotte made her way up the aisle and jumped into Will's arms. He let go of Emma and hiked the little girl up on his hip before taking Emma's hand again.

"What happens now?" She heard Charlotte ask.

"We go to the cemetery," Will responded.

"I don't like cemeteries. They're scary."

"I know, Munchkin. It won't take long." Will's voice was quiet but strong, no doubt in an effort to appear composed in front of the little girl.

Jack was accepting hugs and handshakes by the door. When Will, Emma, and Charlotte approached, his shoulders slumped and he exhaled as if he couldn't hold up the façade any longer.

"Ride with us?" Will asked.

Emma was taken aback – she had driven to the church with Joanie and Rob. "Of course."

Jack gave her a smile as they passed and patted her on the back. As she stepped out into the cool air, she felt the weight of a dozen gazes.

"Will, your family is staring at me," she whispered.

"Ignore them. You're the first woman they've seen me with since I was 15. They're bound to be a little curious."

"Well, I wish their curiosity was a little less calculating. It would ease my paranoia."

Will chuckled and opened the car door for her. "In you go, Cinderella."

The nickname rolled off his tongue easily enough, but it immediately transported Emma back to a Fall day when she hopped to a bench and panicked about how she was ever going to get that wad of gum off her shoe. But in her moment of need, in he swooped... her knight in shining tweed.

Emma slid across the seat as Charlotte scooted in after her. The drive to the cemetery was short and Will quietly conversed with his father in the front seat. As they got out of the car to walk the final few feet, Emma felt a tug on her dress and she turned to see Charlotte cowering in the corner of the backseat.

"Charlotte, what's the matter?"

"I don't wanna go."

Will walked up next to Emma and stuck his head in the car. "Munchkin, I know it's scary, but I need you. Come keep me company." He held out his hand and, after a moment of deliberation, Charlotte took it.

As Will guided her out of the car and into his arms, he leaned over and whispered in Emma's ear, "I need you too, so don't you go anywhere."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

It didn't matter that they had decided the night before that nothing had changed; the more time she spent with Will, it was obvious to Emma that something clearly had.

The light rain had stopped and Emma held Will's hand as he guided her over the uneven grass to the gravesite.

A few words were said, some roses were dropped, and the coffin was lowered into the ground. It was a time-honored process, one practiced over and over again day in and day out, but Emma still couldn't wrap her mind around it. This was it. A final farewell. Though Emma didn't really know the woman, she felt tears prick her eyes, and she bit her lip to keep the sob from escaping her throat. Will wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she leaned into his embrace. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. She was supposed to be the one comforting him, not the other way around. Charlotte turned away and laid her head on Will's shoulder in an effort to hide from everything around her. Emma wished she could do the same. Reaching around Will's back, she ran her fingers through the little girl's hair.

To an outside observer, they might have been the perfect family.

Emma sighed. _Might have..._

Eventually the crowed made their way back to their respective cars to gather at Will's house.

"I don't want to see anyone," Will whined quietly as they trekked across the grass. "Can't we, you know, uninvite them?"

"Will, that's rude."

"Very rude," Charlotte chimed in.

Will raised his eyebrows but said nothing as they waited by the car for Jack to say his final goodbye.

The image of Jack standing over his wife's grave caused Emma to place her hand over her chest. "I can't imagine what he's feeling."

"I can." At Emma's questioning look, Will continued, "I just think about what it would be like losing you."

Emma stared at him for a moment, unsure of the words that just left his mouth.

"Will..."

He smiled sadly and shook his head, his way of letting her know that there was no need for a response. She appreciated it, because she honestly had no idea what to say in return. Will returned his gaze to his father and she followed suit, resting her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes for a moment.

If she was completely honest with herself, she felt the same way. Although Emma Pillsbury was rarely honest with herself.

Will's house seemed to be busting at the seams. Family, friends, and random acquaintances – they rocked in the rockers on the front porch, gathered around the dining room table, and fawned over the pictures on the wall. Laughter filtered through the halls as stories were told, tissues were passed, and hors d'oeuvres were eaten.

Emma tried to make her way through the crowd, feeling a little claustrophobic as people pressed in from all sides. She stood on her tiptoes in an attempt to spot curly hair in the crowd, but she couldn't find him. Jack sat on the sofa, Joanie at his side, as they listened to some distant cousin chatter on about what a beautiful service it was.

She made her way to the backyard and finally spotted him. He was pushing Charlotte on the tire swing, beer in hand. Smiling slightly, she grabbed another beer and made her way across the grass.

"You're hiding," she said, handing him the beer and taking his empty bottle.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Yes."

Charlotte giggled as Will pushed her higher. He gestured to bottle, "You always take care of me."

She laughed. "I'm just trying to get you all liquored up."

"What's liquored up?" Charlotte asked.

Emma's eyes went wide and Will burst out laughing. "I'll tell you later, Squirt," he responded. Emma was slowly learning the pitfalls of speaking frankly in front of a four-year-old.

Will held out his beer, offering her some. She gingerly took it and examined it. She had never shared a drink with someone – not since that milkshake right before her accident. Licking her lips, she put her mouth to the rim and let the cold liquid pour down her throat. She screwed up her face and swallowed – beer had never been one of her favorites.

"Wow, Em. I'm proud of you," Will said as he took the bottle back.

She smiled and her face flushed. She was about to thank him when her phone buzzed in her pocket. Jumping slightly, she pulled it out and her smiled vanished. _Carl._ She meant to call him the night before, but when everything happened with Will, the thought just slipped her mind.

"I have to..." she trailed off, gesturing to the phone. Will nodded and the look on his face told Emma she didn't have to tell him who was on the line.

Turning her back to Will, she pressed the phone to her ear. "Hi."

"Emma." Carl sounded relieved. "I've been trying to call you for the past day."

Emma pulled away and looked at the phone. Sure enough, there were 7 missed calls and 3 voicemails. "Carl, things have been pretty crazy here. I haven't even looked at my phone since yesterday afternoon." Emma glanced over her shoulder at Will. His attention was focused on pushing Charlotte in the swing but Emma could tell he was focusing just a little too hard.

"I just... " Carl sighed. "I missed you."

Emma swallowed hard and replied, "I missed you, too." She hated how foreign the words sounded in her mouth and she didn't dare look over her shoulder at Will again.

"When are you coming home?"

"Um..." Emma took a few steps away from Will and tried to pick a tuft of grass off her heel. "I think tomorrow. I have to see what Will wants to do."

"Really." Carl's voice was flat and Emma closed her eyes in frustration.

"Yes, really. I drove him here in my car. I can't exactly leave him stranded."

"You're right. Sorry." Carl at least sounded contrite.

Emma sighed and risked a glance back. Will had given up pretending not to listen to her and Emma locked eyes with him. He gave her a sad smile as he continued to push Charlotte, his gaze only breaking when the little girl shouted, "Higher!" Will smiled and put more effort behind it.

"Look, Carl - "

"You have to go," Carl interrupted. "Yeah, I know."

Her feeling of frustration grew. "Look, my best friend's mother was just buried. I'm at his house with his entire family and I can't have this conversation right now. We'll talk when I get back," Emma snapped and hung up the phone. She turned around to see both Will and Charlotte staring at her wide-eyed.

She cleared her throat and said, "Sorry about that."

Wordlessly, Will handed her the bottle of beer and she took a heavy swig without a second thought.

Four hours later, Will stretched his neck as he gathered up paper plates and plastic cups from around the house. Emma sat pinned on the couch where Charlotte had fallen asleep on her lap. She occasionally caught Will sneaking glances at her as she absentmindedly ran her finger's through the child's hair.

She vaguely listened to Will's Great Aunt Alice recount some story involving a 1958 Oldsmobile, a boy named Bobby, and a bottle of whiskey. Emma was glad Charlotte was asleep because she was pretty sure it was a story not meant for children's ears. The majority of guests had left. Joanie was helping Will clean, Rob had gotten roped into listening to Great Aunt Alice's tales of debauchery, and Jack wandered aimlessly. Emma was feeling slightly buzzed, even though she hadn't had much to drink. But she had been so concerned with making sure Jack and Will were eating that she had forgotten to feed herself. A few beers on an empty stomach was making her head swim.

She watched as Jack approached Will and whispered in his ear. Will paused mid clean up and stared at his father. "Dad, that's not necessary."

"Well, where else are we going to put her?" Jack asked.

Will met her gaze and sighed. Emma sent him a questioning glance and he wandered over.

"Hi," he said as he took a seat next to her.

"Hi," she responded. "What's up?"

"Apparently, Great Aunt Alice is spending the night." Both Will and Emma looked over at the older woman as she hiccupped her way through yet another story.

"That's probably for the best," Emma chuckled.

"Yes, but the problem is... we're running out of beds. Joanie and Rob are on the pull-out couch, Charlotte's in a sleeping bag..."

"Do you need me to move? I can do that."

Will's eyes widened. "No, no, no. _I'm_ going to move. Aunt Alice can have my bed, and if she complains about having a solar system above her head, she can sleep in the tree house for all I care."

Emma laughed.

"But that means that I need a place to sleep." Will paused. "Would you mind loaning me your floor?"

Butterflies erupted in Emma's stomach and she had to remind herself to breathe. She managed to squeak out, "I think it's still considered _your_ floor."

"So, do you mind?" He smiled that crooked smile that she loved.

"Of course not." Emma hoped her voice sounded calmer than her body felt.

"Thanks. Now I won't have to kick Charlotte out of her sleeping bag. Speaking of which..." Will gestured to the sleeping girl, "... how about I take her off your hands. You must be losing feeling in your legs by now."

Emma laughed. "I am a bit."

Will slid his arm behind Charlotte, grazing Emma's stomach, and hoisted her into his arms.

Emma yawned and stretched her legs. "What time is it?"

"Almost 10. Wanna head to bed?"

Emma nodded, knowing full well that when Will said "Wanna head to bed," he meant he was heading with her. It was a thought that both excited and petrified her. They waved goodnight to the remaining family members and she silently followed him into the office where he safely deposited Charlotte in her sleeping bag.

Neither said a word as they climbed the stairs, the air between them thick. They parted ways in the hall to change in their separate bedrooms. Emma slid the nightgown over her head and stared at herself in the mirror. Steadying her breaths, she closed her eyes and pretended like everything was fine. Everything was normal. Sharing a bedroom with a man that was not her boyfriend was completely okay.

Will cleared his throat and she jumped to find him standing in the doorway, a pile of blankets under his arm.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. May I?" He gestured to the floor.

"Of course." Emma smiled as Will laid out the blanket. "I just have to brush my teeth,' she said and she fled the room before she could focus too much on the fact that he was standing in her temporary bedroom in nothing but his pajama pants and a tight t-shirt.

She returned ten minutes later to find Will lying on the floor, the blanket tucked up under his chin. She would have giggled had her heart not been hammering against her ribcage. Pulling back the covers, she glanced at Will before she slid in between the sheets.

"Will?"

"Yeah?"

Emma licked her lips and clasped her hands together, not believing that words were actually about to leave her mouth. "You know, you don't have to sleep on the floor." She let the sentence hang in the air before continuing. "It's a big bed. And I'm sure it's a lot more comfortable than the carpet."

His head slowly peered over the side of the bed, eyes wide, brows raised. "You sure? I don't want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable."

"It's just you," she responded.

Something flickered across his face, but she couldn't be sure of what it was. Hurt? Hope? _"It's just you." _Exactly. It was just Will. It was only ever Will.

"I promise to stay on my side." He grinned and pulled the covers back, slipping in next to her.

He had barely been in the bed for ten seconds and she couldn't feel the heat radiating from his body. This was something Emma hadn't even done with Carl. There was a reason she hadn't slept with him yet, a reason she hadn't even shared a bed with him after almost six months of dating. She didn't love him.

And that was the first time her head allowed her heart to admit that. She reached up with a shaky hand and switched off the light as Will did the same on his side.

Emma rolled away from him and tried to control her breathing. But under the safety of darkness, Will's voice broke through the air. "Em, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure." She rolled over and faced him, though she could barely make out the outline of his head.

"Are you happy?"

The question caught her off guard and she was glad the lights were off so he didn't see the tears that clouded her eyes. "I thought so."

"But?" He prompted.

"Now I'm not so sure." She reached up to wipe a renegade tear.

"I just want you to know that all I've ever wanted is for you to be happy. And I'm sorry that this is causing trouble with Carl."

Emma was silent for a moment, weighing whether or not she wanted to voice what she thought.

"I'm not."

She heard and felt Will's head leave the pillow. "What?"

Reaching out, she tried to find his cheek in the darkness. "There are conversations that I have to have. Both with you and with Carl… But now is not the time." She was shocked at how rational she sounded. It was a good thing, because her thoughts were running a mile a minute.

He nodded against her palm. "I understand."

She let go of his cheek, but remained facing him. They fell asleep gazing at each other without really seeing, and she woke an hour later to find his arms wrapped around her, his chest warming her back. She should have panicked; she should have moved away, but instead, she pressed herself closer and wrapped his fingers through hers.

Not ten minutes later, she heard the creak of the door and the pitter-patter of feet.

"Will?"

He groaned and tightened his arms around Emma's waist.

"Will?"

Emma could feel Will being poked in the shoulder. He rolled over and squinted one eye open. "Charlotte? Whassamatter?"

Emma propped herself up on her elbow and saw Charlotte holding onto the sleeve of Will's t-shirt, hair askew, tears streaming down her face.

"I had a nightmare," she hiccupped.

It was to be expected, Emma thought. The girl did spend the day in a cemetery.

"Come 'ere, Squirt," Will said as he picked the four-year-old up and rolled over, placing her in between himself and Emma. Charlotte curled into Will's chest and he stroked her hair until she fell back asleep. Emma looked at him through heavy lids as he wrapped his arms back around her and scooted her closer to Charlotte. She fell asleep with his hand resting safely on her lower back.

For the first time in weeks, she slept like a rock.


	6. Requisitions

_Requisitions_

Emma awoke to pressure on her stomach and she blinked her eyes in an effort to focus them. Sometime in the middle of the night, Charlotte had shifted sideways and now her head lay on Emma's stomach with her feet on Will's back. She stifled her laugh so she wouldn't wake the little girl.

Turning to her right, she was met with a sight that made her stomach flip. Will lay on his stomach, his face buried in the pillow, his arm thrown across her. Sighing contentedly, she closed her eyes and drifted off, clearly unable to move anytime soon.

Emma wasn't sure how much time had passed before she heard an "Oof!" and a "Sorry, Will."

She opened her eyes to see Will gingerly rubbing his cheek where Charlotte's foot had connected moments ago.

"S'okay, Munchkin." Will grabbed her and spun her around as she squealed. "Shhh, you're gonna wake up Emma."

"Morning," Emma replied.

Charlotte looked at Will, their curls identically wild. "Oops."

"Oops is right." Will looked sheepish. "Sorry we woke you."

Emma smiled and sat up. "I was awake. What time is it?"

Will rolled over and squinted at the clock. "Almost 9:00. We should probably head back sooner rather than later - around 2 maybe?"

The realization that they would be returning to the real world came crashing down on Emma. She knew they had to go back eventually and, though the weekend was emotional, she really felt like they had been in some sort of protective bubble. A bubble that was about to pop.

"Right. Right... that's good. That sounds good."

Will narrowed his eyes. "You sure?"

"Yep." She nodded her head and forced a smile. "Absolutely. 2:00."

Will continued to scrutinize her, but he eventually tickle-bombed Charlotte and her laughter echoed off the walls, easing the tension.

Between giggles, Charlotte demanded pancakes and as Will took her downstairs to fulfill her request, Emma hopped into the shower.

The hot water soothed her tense muscles and she let her head drop, kneading the back of her neck with her fingers. The thought of the inevitable conversation she had to have with Carl made her stomach turn. She was through denying her feelings. Though the start of her relationship with Carl was built on the heartbreak over Will, it had grown into something wonderful, something full of hope and help. Carl had cracked Emma's shell; something Will had not even bothered to try, save for a smudge of chalk dust one quiet, lonely evening. She couldn't deny Will at least part of the credit though. Though Carl had been more proactive, Will had backed off significantly and for that, she was eternally grateful. "Smothered" was a strong but that's how she had begun to feel around him. Gradually, though, Will changed. He grew. He respected her wishes, becoming her friend once more instead of her mistake.

Emma toweled off her hair and stared at her reflection in the mirror. _Her mistake._ What horrible words. Emma shook her head and her wet hair stuck to her cheek. Will had gotten sidetracked by Corvettes and Britney Spears and Rocky Horror. But he had found his way back again, just as she knew he would.

Charlotte's laughter echoed off the walls from downstairs and Emma couldn't help but smile. Rushing through the rest of her morning routine, she hurried down the stairs and rounded the corner, pausing to take in the sight before her: Charlotte sat on the counter, giggling as she pressed two floured hands on Will's cheeks, leaving white prints as she pulled away.

"I'm glad you find this so funny," Will said as he smudged some batter on her nose. He raised his hand to wipe the flour from his face, but stopped mid-air as Charlotte yelled.

"No! Leave it!"

"All right, all right." Will lifted her from the counter and placed her on the floor and she scurried over to Jack who sat reading the paper at the table.

"Hi, Munchkin." He bent down and placed a kiss on her head, taking his napkin and wiping the batter off her nose.

"Sit down, Squirt. Your pancakes are ready," Will called from the kitchen.

Charlotte ran around the table, but upon seeing Emma, made a beeline for her instead. "Yay, you made it for pancakes!"

Will's head shot up and Emma met his gaze, smiling. "Morning."

"Sleep well?" Jack asked, trying and failing to hide his grin. Will narrowed his eyes at him.

Emma flushed. "Very well, thank you."

Will held up a spatula. "Pancakes?"

Emma nodded and allowed Charlotte to lead her over to the table next to Jack. "Where are Joanie and Rob?"

"They went for a drive," Jack replied. "And Aunt Alice went home to nurse her wounds. I made her a Bloody Mary for the road."

Emma snorted and Will walked over balancing four plates on his arms. "We have to be on the road around 2:00 today, Dad."

Jack nodded and the smile slowly slid from his face.

"You know, Will… " Emma started, "I'm sure Figgins would give you some more time, you know, if you wanted to stay."

Will raised his eyebrows at her, a silent question asking if that was something she'd be willing to do, but Jack's voice interrupted them. "Will, you and Emma have already taken enough time off. The kids need you."

"But Dad... you need us too."

Jack smiled and patted his son's cheek. "I'm fine."

Will looked at him skeptically as Charlotte's eyes darted back and forth between the two men, silently chewing her pancake.

"Well, think about it," Will said, spearing a piece of pancake more harshly than he needed to.

Charlotte was still looking wide-eyed at the men around the table so Emma scrunched her nose at her, earning a smile in return. Emma knew that Will didn't like the idea of his recently widowed father staying all by himself. If Jack would let Will stay, she knew he would in a heartbeat.

A few minutes later, Charlotte announced she was finished eating and without thinking, Emma reached over with her napkin and wiped the syrup from the little girl's face. She paused mid-wipe, though, realizing what she had done and how natural it had seemed. Will flashed a knowing smile at her from across the table.

Emma cleared her throat and pulled the napkin away. "All set, Munchkin."

Will's smile grew at the well-worn nickname and Emma couldn't help but laugh. He still had Charlotte's handprints on his cheeks.

They finished up breakfast and cleared the table. Emma grabbed Will's elbow as he stood at the sink and he stopped scrubbing the bowl in his hands.

"Since your Dad won't let you stay, why don't you ask him to come along. Then he won't be alone and you won't have to worry about him."

"I always worry about him." Will gave her a smile and placed a soapy hand on hers, "But that's a good idea. I'll see what he thinks."

Emma wiped her hand on his shirt, "Good."

"That's all I am to you, isn't it. A dish towel."

Emma laughed. "If we're leaving at two, you better start getting ready. You need at least three hours to style your hair correctly."

Will's jaw dropped, "Okay, Sue."

Emma grinned victoriously and walked away. Her pace slowed as she realized that she hadn't blatantly flirted with Will like that in a long time. It was sort of thrilling. She would have taken the stairs two at a time had her heels allowed her to.

An hour later, she was neatly folding her clothes into her suitcase, trying to make it slightly more organized than it was when she had arrived. There was a commotion in the hall and Emma dropped the shirt she was holding and headed for the door.

Charlotte was attempting to drag a suitcase that was twice her size down the hallway as Will stood behind her, his hands on his hips.

"Squirt, we talked about this."

"I wanna go!" Charlotte grunted as she gave the suitcase another tug. Her grip slipped and she fell back on her bum, letting out a little yelp before her eyes filled with tears.

Will rushed forward and picked her up as she cried into his shoulder. "It's okay," he whispered. "You're all right."

"I wanna go," she muttered miserably.

"I know you do," he said as he rubbed her back. "But you've gotta stay with Nana and Pop Pop."

"But I wanna stay with you," she hiccupped and pulled away. "Just til Mommy and Daddy get back." Will brushed her hair from her face and wiped her tears with his thumbs.

"What is going on up here?" Joanie huffed as she climbed the final steps. "Oh dear," she said as she took in the scene before her.

"I want to go with them," Charlotte repeated.

"I can see that," Joanie replied. "Will, is your father going with you?"

"He's packing right now... It took a few casual threats, but he's packing."

Emma raised her eyebrows at him and he shrugged as if to say, _Hey it worked_.

Joanie sighed. "Well, Charlotte, if it's all right with Will, I'm okay with it. Uncle Jack can bring you home when he leaves."

"Really?" Both Charlotte and Will asked. Joanie nodded and Charlotte turned her watery eyes to Will and he smiled.

"How could I possibly resist that pout?"

"Yay!" Charlotte wiggled out of his arms and took hold of the suitcase again.

"Whoa there." Will gently lifted her hand off the handle and picked it up with ease. "How about I take care of this?" Will flashed a smile at Emma as Charlotte skipped along behind him. "Let's go get your stuff. You can take care of Uncle Jack while Emma and I are at work."

"Yes, sir," Charlotte declared as she followed him down the stairs.

Joanie shook her head. "She's been watching _The Sound of Music _too much. 'Yes, sir.' 'No, sir.' I blame Will. He introduced it to her."

"I love that movie," Emma replied.

"So does Will. Whenever his parents would fight, he'd pop it in." Joanie smiled sadly. "They always made up by the time Maria returned, though." Joanie dabbed at her eyes and exhaled loudly. "Oh gosh, look at me."

Emma reached out and placed a hand on her arm, unsure of what comfort she could give. Joanie gave her a watery smile.

"You better get packing if you want to be on the road soon."

Emma nodded and watched as Joanie slowly descended the steps. The woman had just lost her sister, but her first concern was for the well being of the other people in her family.

After two fits over what to pack, one from Charlotte, one from Jack, three arguments over who was riding with whom, four people finally piled into two different cars.

Jack backed his car out of the garage as Will strapped Charlotte into the car seat that they borrowed from Joanie and Rob. "Snug as a bug."

"In a rug!" She finished.

Emma buckled up and turned around to hand Charlotte a baggie of Goldfish.

"I'm gonna go lock up. Be right back," Will said before he jogged up to front door. Emma frowned when he didn't move after turning the key.

"Will?" She called through the open car window.

He still didn't move. Growing concerned, she unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door, making her way up the front porch to him. His hand still gripped the doorknob and his head hung low. Sliding herself into the space between Will's body and the door, she placed a hand on his cheek and lifted his head to meet her gaze.

"You can let go now," she whispered and both she and Will knew she was talking about more than just the doorknob. His grip loosened and his hands went limp by his sides.

"I miss her."

"I know."

"This is it," he said as a tear escaped his eye. "Coming home will never be same."

Emma's heart broke and she knew that nothing she said would fill the void he felt. She placed a hand on his chest over his heart like a band-aid, before kissing him on the cheek and leading him away from the door. Jack had exited his car and Emma gave him a small smile to ease his concern. Nodding, he slid back into the driver's seat and waited for Will and Emma to do the same.

"Emma, I'm out of Goldfish!" Charlotte cried as she held up her empty bag. Will's whole demeanor changed as he reached in the front passenger seat and held up another bag, much to Charlotte's delight. The creases of pain were gone from his face and the tension had eased out of his shoulders. He opened his mouth as Charlotte tried to toss a Goldfish in.

Emma laughed as Charlotte yelled, "You moved!" when the Goldfish bounced off his chin. She made a mental note to find it on the floor later, but Will saved her the trouble.

Picking it up, he said, "No more, Squirt. We can't mess up Emma's car."

"Mkay," the girl replied.

Emma shot Will a shy smile as a way of saying 'thank you,' but he was focused on finding a good radio station, as if being mindful of Emma's quirks was just second nature, rather than something to dwell on.

The ride home was relatively uneventful. Emma made sure Jack's car remained in the rearview mirror as Will played I Spy with Charlotte. As Emma pulled up in front of Will's apartment building, the feeling of regret settled heavily in her stomach. It wasn't regret for the weekend, but regret that it had to end. She didn't want Will to get out of her car. It was as if he belonged there.

"Well, this is me," he joked.

"Yep," Emma replied. Neither really saw the humor in the situation. They stared at each other for a second before the sounds of Charlotte struggling with her car seat grabbed their attention.

"I'm coming, I'm coming, don't pinch your fingers," Will said as he got out of the car and opened the rear door to help Charlotte escape from her Graco prison. As Charlotte skipped over to Jack, Will stuck his head back into Emma's car. "Wanna come in?"

Oh boy did she. Though the small voice in her head was chanting 'yes,' she heard the "No thanks," leave her lips. "I should really get home."

Will smiled but she saw the disappointment in his eyes. Reaching through the window, he placed his hand on hers and warmth spread through her arm. "Thank you, Emma. Thank you so much." He opened his mouth to say more, but the words seemed to get stuck in his throat.

"None needed," she replied as she placed her hand over his. Giving a final squeeze, Will let go and chased after Charlotte, throwing a "See you tomorrow!" over his shoulder.

Emma sighed and watched them until they were out of sight. Throwing the car into gear, she drove home to her empty apartment.

Suppressing a cringe at what awaited her, she let her front door swing open and she cautiously stepped inside. She almost laughed at the sight: a sweater was on the ground, a cabinet had been left open, and a picture had been knocked off center, all in her haste to leave the apartment. Never before would she have been able to leave a mess like that even for four minutes, let alone four days. But Will needed her and only her concern for him would have permitted such chaos. Sighing, she dropped her bag by the door (another anomaly), and headed for the kitchen. There were things she wanted, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Sparing a glance for the phone as she opened the fridge, she tapped her foot as she tried to find something to satisfy her appetite. Deciding that her nerves were making it impossible to eat anything, she shut the door and glanced at the phone again. The red light blinked tauntingly, informing her that she had a voicemail. Sighing, she hit the button as Carl's voice echoed off the walls.

"Hi Ems. I've been, uh, trying to call you. I think your phone's off… Just wanted to see how you were, and if you were home… Or coming home… Anyways, call me." _Beeeep. _

Emma rummaged through her bag and pulled her phone from its deep recesses. It had died sometime during the night and she hadn't bothered to charge it. She hadn't wanted to talk to anyone save the one person who was actually with her, so she figured there was no need. She looked up Carl in her contacts and, closing her eyes, hit send.

"Emma," he answered.

"Hi."

There was a pause before he asked, "How are you?" 

"Okay. I'm home."

"Oh."

Another pause. It was as if both knew what was coming, but neither wanted to broach the subject first.

"Can we talk?" Emma twisted her hair around her finger. "I mean, in person? Grab coffee or something?"

Carl let out a heavy sigh and when he spoke, his voice was clipped. "Let's just do this now, that way when you say what you have to say, we won't have to sit through what I can only imagine would be a very awkward cup of coffee."

Tears choked Emma's throat as she whispered, "I'm so sorry, Carl. I didn't mean… I just… " she trailed off as she gasped back a sob. "I'm so sorry," she repeated over and over.

Another heavy sigh whooshed through the phone. "It's okay."

But Emma's tears drowned out anything either had to say.

"Emma, Emma…" he tried to soothe. "It's okay."

"No it's not. You're such a good guy and I just…"

"Emma," Carl's voice was stern but warm. She finally quieted down to hiccups. "It's okay. Really, it is," he said, cutting off her argument. "Look, I made Will a promise. I told him, bro to bro, that if you started leaning towards him, I would back off, and… well… you're leaning."

"I am leaning," she whispered. "I wasn't though. My flag had been firmly fixed in your direction, but after this weekend…" Emma hated that she was basing this breakup on a four day encounter. She knew her decision ran deeper than that, but it still sounded so trivial.

"Death changes people," Carl said. "Or just makes them finally see something that was there all along."

Emma nodded, even though he couldn't see her. "When his dad was standing over his wife's grave, it made me realize that… there's really only one man that will be standing over mine."

"I know." Carl sighed. "I knew that fighting for you would be an uphill battle, but I had to try."

Emma ran her hand over her cheeks and wiped her tears on her sweater. "You're a great man, Carl."

"Maybe we'll get that cup of coffee someday in the future."

"I'd like that," Emma sniffed.

"Goodbye, Emma."

"Goodbye, Carl."

Emma waited for Carl to disconnect first before she snapped the phone shut and let it fall from her hand to the hardwood floor. That was it. Such a short conversation ended the longest relationship she'd ever had.

Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back against the wall as a few more tears escaped from under her lids. She felt pain, relief, guilt, and hope. It was far too many emotions for someone who had already been run through the emotional gamut too many times to count.

She left the bag by the door but closed the cabinet and picked up the sweater. Her therapist had encouraged her to be rebellious, but a packed suitcase full of dirty clothes was all the rebellion she had the energy for.

She popped in an organic microwaveable meal before diving into three scoops of soy ice cream and the local news. It was that kind of day.

A gentle ringing woke her up and she squinted at the clock to see that three hours had passed. The anchor was now reporting on the 10:00 news and Emma reached for the remote, before remembering it was the phone that woke her in the first place. She stumbled from the couch and found it right where she had dropped it.

Fearing it was Carl, she hesitated to answer before recognizing the other familiar number flash across the screen. 

"Hi," she answered.

"Hi," Will replied. "I'm sorry, I know it's late. Did I wake you?"

"Nope," Emma lied as she shook her head to clear the sleep from her brain.

"Sorry, I just needed a friendly voice. Even a house full of people can seem really lonely, you know?"

Emma smiled sadly. "I do." She flicked off the lights as she made her way to the bedroom.

She let Will talk as he described the pasta dinner he and Charlotte had tried to make. Charlotte insisted on doing most of the work, which meant that Will dialed out for delivery when Charlotte wasn't looking.

Emma pulled out some pajamas out and laid them on the bed. "Hang on, I'm putting the phone down for a sec. I have to change; I fell asleep on the couch in my clothes."

"So I did wake you up. Liar, liar, pants on fire."

Emma rolled her eyes. "I needed to get up anyway. I can't sleep in my normal clothes."

"Well, go ahead. I'll close my eyes."

Emma laughed and dropped the phone on the bed as she shimmied out of her skirt and top.

"Still not looking," she heard Will yell through the phone.

"Good!" she responded. Why did he have to be so darn cute? She was supposed to be grieving over the loss of Carl, not flirting with Will. She had made up her mind though. It didn't matter that she was now 'unattached,' she and Will were going to do things properly this time. They weren't going to jump in head first without checking on how deep the water was.

Pulling her shirt over her head, she picked up the phone. "I'm back."

"What are you wearing?"

"Will!" Had he been present, she would have smacked him.

"Sorry, sorry, inappropriate," he said but she could practically hear the grin in his voice. "Couldn't help myself."

"You're ridiculous."

"I know."

Emma flicked the light on in the bathroom and pulled out her toothbrush. "How's Charlotte?"

"She misses you. She didn't quite understand why we don't, you know, live together."

Emma paused in squeezing the tube of toothpaste and stared at herself in the mirror. "Oh."

"Yeah. I guess we didn't really think about that when we pulled her into bed."

"That can be confusing for a four-year-old," Emma offered, before putting the toothbrush in her mouth.

"What's that noise?"

"I'm brushing my teeth," she garbled, mouth full of Colgate.

Will laughed, "I'll wait til you're done."

"Thank you," she replied, though it came out more like 'Tank oo.'

After spitting and rinsing, she settled into bed, phone still pressed securely to her ear. They talked about mundane things, like the news and the weather, and more important things like Will's father, and glee. Emma left out Carl. That was a conversation they could tackle another time.

Will's voice was better than a warm glass of soy milk and Emma found herself struggling to keep her eyes open. Her phone informed her they'd been talking for an hour, which seemed kind of silly since they were barely a ten-minute drive away from each other.

They eventually settled into a comfortable silence and Emma finally let her eyes drift shut.

"Still there?" came his groggy question.

"Uh huh," came her sleepy response.

"Good."

Emma woke up sometime in the middle of the night to find the phone resting on the pillow next to her, Will's steady breath lulling her back to sleep.


	7. Prologues

_Prologues_

The alarm blared and Emma shot up in bed, disoriented. She reached blindly for the clock and slammed the button, knocking the phone off the bed in the process.

Emma frowned. The phone. _Will._

She picked it up and held it to her ear, whispering a tentative, "Hello?"

"Geez you get up early," he replied. "I thought it was my alarm for a second."

Emma flushed as his voice carried through the phone, scratchy from lack of use.

"It takes me a while to get ready," she justified as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and pushed herself up. "Go back to sleep."

"Mmkay," he responded.

"I'm hanging up now."

"You are?" he asked, a little more alert.

"Will, I'm going to see you in an hour and a half. Go back to sleep."

"Mmkay," he repeated. "Night."

She laughed. "Goodnight." She hung up the phone and stared at it for a second, shaking her head, before launching into her morning routine.

The ride to school was taking longer than usual. Or perhaps that was just because Emma's anxiety to get there as soon as possible was all she could focus on. She pulled into the parking lot and immediately her eyes searched for the dilapidated blue car.

But he was nowhere to be found. Frowning, Emma put the car into park and nudged the door shut with her hip.

"Hey, Miss P! Good to have you back!" Artie called as he wheeled to the handicap entrance. She waved and headed toward the door.

It was oddly comforting to be back at school, back in her routine. Emma missed the way the halls always smelled like floor cleaner first thing in the morning, and the way the students had learned to give her a wide berth as they passed. It wasn't that they were afraid of her. They had just gotten used to her tendencies. She walked past the Spanish room, disheartened to find the lights still off. She took the roundabout way to her office to pass the choir room and her heart jumped into her throat when she heard music filtering through the cracked door.

Peeking her head in, though, she found only the kids.

"Hi, Miss Pillsbury," Rachel called, halting the music Puck was playing on the piano. Twelve sets of eyes found focus on her and she smiled as she entered the room.

Before she could offer so much as a "hello" in return, questions flew at her faster than she could think: "How's Mr. Schue?" "Is he okay?" "Is he back?" "The sub sucks."

Emma's attention remained focused on Finn, who had uttered the last comment. The tall boy shrugged, "What? He does!"

Emma clasped her hands on front of her. "Yes, Mr. Schuester is back. He's as okay as he can be. And, Finn, I'm sorry the sub sucks."

The final warning bell rang and the students began to gather their things.

"Don't tell Mr. Schue you saw us in here," Rachel pleaded.

Kurt nodded. "It would totally ruin the surprise."

Emma frowned. "What surprise?"

"We prepared a song for him. So shhh." Mercedes held her finger to her lips as the students filed out behind her, leaving Emma alone in the empty room. She retreated to her office and read over the notes from her substitute, Mrs. McAvoy. Rachel had yet another mini-meltdown about the trajectory of her career, Karofsky had been suspended for slamming Kurt into a locker, a freshman cried for some reason and a senior realized two months too late that it was time to apply for college. All in all, a typical day.

A cheer erupted from the direction of the Spanish room and Emma smiled. Will must have arrived. He really was one of McKinley's strongest assets and it was no wonder he had won Teacher of the Year three years in a row. She sighed and surveyed her desk: forms to fill out, recommendation letters to write, and appointments to keep.

Lunch couldn't get there fast enough.

Four hours later, the final bell before break rang and Emma grabbed her lunch to head for the lounge, bobbing and weaving between students as they headed to the cafeteria.

"Emma!"

Emma halted and spun around just in time to see Charlotte launch herself at her. Emma wrapped her arms around the girl's little body and glanced over her shoulder to see Will jogging after her.

"Well, what a nice surprise."

"We're gonna have lunch!" Charlotte smiled a toothy grin at Emma as Will caught up, giving her a sheepish smile.

Neither noticed the looks that the student body was giving them.

"My Dad went to visit some old friends. I think he was getting a bit of cabin fever, even with this fireball as company." He tickled Charlotte and she giggled.

"Since we're three, should we go to my office?" Emma offered.

"Sounds good," Will said as he held up two brown bag lunches.

Emma let Charlotte slide to the ground and the little girl turned to skip down the hall, only to promptly run into a large set of legs. Charlotte looked so far up into the face of Shannon Beiste, she almost fell backwards.

"Whoa."

"Whoa is right," Shannon said as she ruffled the little girl's hair. "And who are you?"

"Charlotte Foster. Will's cousin." she whispered, holding out a tentative hand. Her parents had taught her right.

Shannon raised her eyebrows and gently took the proffered hand. "Shannon Beiste. Football coach." She glanced up and met the amused gazes of Will and Emma. "Emma," Shannon nodded. "Will, I'm so sorry for your loss." She placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Thank you," he replied, offering an appreciative smile even as the light left his face.

Shannon walked away as Charlotte stared after her. "She's taller than my Daddy."

"Taller than Will, too," Emma said. Will didn't seem to hear her as he stared at some nondescript point on the wall.

Emma placed a hand on his back as Charlotte glanced between the two adults. "Will, I'm hungry."

Will cleared his throat. "Right, well let's go then." He held out a hand and Charlotte took it. "After all, I did make you the best PB&J in all the land."

"In all the land?" Emma asked.

"In all the land!" Charlotte responded.

"We watched _Snow White_ last night," Will offered by way of explanation.

Emma opened the door to her office and ushered the other two in. "I didn't know _Snow White_ was included in the Bruckheimer repertoire."

Will narrowed his eyes in jest but let the comment pass, busying himself with setting out Charlotte's lunch. He pulled her onto his lap so she could reach the desk.

Will always seemed more comfortable in her office, as if he belonged there, just as he belonged in her car. They were a good fit. Will didn't stand out in his vests and ties as Carl had in his suits and shiny shoes. And Emma didn't like things that stood out – she stood out enough everyday. No, she wanted something that complemented, not complicated. And she and Will fit together like Lincoln Logs.

As she pulled out her grapes, she focused on Will as he handed Charlotte chips, making sure she didn't spill her juice box. He would sneak a bite every now and then before being solely captivated by the child in his arms again.

"So what you think, Charlotte? Best in all the land?" Emma asked.

She shrugged. "I like crunchy peanut butter. Will doesn't like crunchy peanut butter. If it had crunchy peanut butter, it'd be the best in every land."

Emma scrunched up her nose. "I'm afraid I don't like crunchy peanut butter either."

Charlotte nodded. "I know, Will told me. He said that's why he buys the smoothy."

"Smooth," Will corrected, even though he had the look of a man who'd just been found out.

"Oh really?"

Charlotte, having the attention span of a typical four-year-old, had moved beyond the conversation and was busy counting the number of chocolate chips in her cookie, but Emma's focus remained on Will. He seemed to looking anywhere but at her and, had Charlotte not been in his lap, Emma was sure he would have bolted at first chance.

"Sorry," he finally muttered.

"Don't be," she replied. "It's sweet."

"I guess it was just in case, you know, we ever went halfsies again."

Emma bit her lip as a lump became firmly lodged in her throat. In that moment, she wanted to tell him everything. She wanted to tell him that Carl was out of the picture, that she was ready to be with him, to date him, marry him, have his children. _Whoa_.

Emma slowed down and shook her head. Where had that come from? Sure, she had thought about a possible future with him. It was her favorite daydream before Carl, Shelby, and April came into the picture. But come along they did and that daydream faded into nothingness.

Glancing at the child in his lap, she knew why her subconscious was running amuck. Over the past few days, it had become too easy to pretend that this was the way things should be.

Emma cleared her throat and finally said, "I'll always go halfsies with you."

Will smiled at her and they fell into a comfortable silence again. Emma had resisted the urge to blurt out all that she felt because, the presence of a four-year-old notwithstanding, she didn't want to make the same mistakes as last time. _You just left your wife, _she had said. But did she listen to her own common sense? Not one bit.

Emma wasn't about to make the same mistake twice. She couldn't handle losing him again.

"Can you do me a favor?" Will asked, bringing Emma out of her internal musings.

"Hm? Oh of course."

"I have to teach this afternoon and, if you don't have any appointments, I was wondering if Charlotte could hang in your office."

"I brought a coloring book," Charlotte said as she munched on another cookie.

"Sure. I'd love to have her."

"Thanks, I'll swing by and pick her up before Glee." The warning bell rang and Will lifted Charlotte off his lap and placed her on the chair. "Gotta go, Squirt," he said, planting a kiss on her head. "Be good for Emma."

"I will," Charlotte sing-songed as she pulled out her crayons.

Emma watched Will's retreating back until he turned the corner. She had wanted to ask him how he was holding up, but the look on his face in the hallway as Shannon had expressed her condolences was all the insight Emma needed.

Charlotte began humming and Emma was brought back to reality. She realized that Will had taken all of the trash with him when left and her heart swelled.

Clearing her throat, she focused on the little girl. "So, what did you and Will and Uncle Jack do last night?"

"I made pasta and we watched Snow White and then I fell asleep. But I woke Will up in the middle of the night because the witch was scary. He told me he'd fight off any witch for me."

Emma smiled. "I'm sure he would."

The rest of the afternoon was spent writing recommendations and trying to color within the lines. When a particularly difficult essay had Emma covering her face with her hands, Charlotte ripped a page out of her book as neatly as possible and handed the princess outline and a purple crayon across the desk without a word.

Emma gratefully took it and began to color, something she hadn't done in years. It was oddly therapeutic and when Will returned for Charlotte, he found them both hunched over the desk, tongues peeking out in concentration, as they brought the flowing dresses to colorful, if not always matching, life.

"Look at my little artists," he said, startling them. His use of 'my' did not go unnoticed by Emma.

Charlotte held up her picture of Belle from _Beauty and the Beast:_ her dress was three different shades of yellow and the crayon zigged and zagged outside of the solid black lines, but Will looked at it as if he had just been handed a Picasso.

"Beautiful, Munchkin."

"It's for you."

Sure enough, it said, "TO: WILL LOVE: CHARLOTTE" in the top left corner. He held his hand to his chest, genuinely touched.

"Thank you, Squirt. I'll hang it in my office." He turned to Emma. "And what about you? Let's see it."

Emma blushed and held up her drawing of Ariel, red hair flaming in her underwater world.

"Equally beautiful," Will replied.

"Liar," she said as she gathered up the crayons. "Glee time?"

"Glee time."

Emma desperately wanted to know what the kids had planned for him so, taking a tentative step forward, she asked, "Can I join?"

"Em, I thought you knew that you've always had an open invitation."

Well, she did now. Emma smiled as Will led the way out of the office and to the choir room. Charlotte grabbed his hand as he opened the door.

The pure joy Emma saw in the glee-clubbers' faces as they greeted their teacher was overwhelming.

"Hey guys," he said, embarrassed by the attention.

Rachel bounced up and handed him a card signed by everyone. "Kurt picked it out, so if you don't like it, it's not my fault."

"Hey." Kurt glared at her.

Will cleared his throat as his eyes scanned the signatures. "I love it, Rach." He looked up at the rest of the group. "Thank you, guys."

"We missed you, Mr. Schue," Finn piped up from the back.

"I missed you guys, too."

Mercedes finally seemed to be the first person to notice the little girl hanging onto Will's right hand. "Uh, Mr. Schue? Is there something you and Miss Pillsbury forgot to tell us?"

"What?" He followed her gaze to Charlotte, "Oh." It took a moment for her meaning hit home and when it did, both Will and Emma's eyes widened.

"No, no." They said at the same time.

Will cleared his throat as Emma clammed up. "She's not… she's not ours."

Emma could tell by the looks on their faces that the kids were aware of that, but it was still fun to see their teachers squirm.

"This is Charlotte. My cousin. She's spending a couple of days with me."

"Hi, Charlotte," the kids chorused as the little girl buried her face in the side of Will's leg, suddenly shy.

"Say 'hi,' Munchkin."

"Hi," came the muffled reply. The kids laughed as Kurt stood and ushered Will and Emma into chairs.

"We have a little something for you."

"Uh oh," Will replied as he pulled Charlotte onto his lap. The kids lined up on stools and, as the opening notes of The Beach Boys' _God Only Knows_ started up, Will reached over and took Emma's hand.

_I may not always love you, But long as there are stars above you, You never need to doubt it, I'll make you so sure about it, God only knows what I'd be without you…_

As the kids powered through the song, Emma snuck a sideways glance at Will. Tears pooled in his eyes as he pressed his nose into Charlotte's hair. She tightened her grip on his hand as she studied the students' faces. Quite a few of them knew what it was like to lose a parent. Kurt's Mom, Finn's Dad, Rachel's Mom. The pain that they shared with Will vibrated in their voices, letting him know that he wasn't alone.

The song wound down and Will sniffed and ran a hand across his eyes. As the final note faded into the afternoon, he stood and began to clap.

"Guys…" he trailed off, his throat tight. Placing a hand over his heart was the only way to show his gratitude, and Quinn was the first to come forward and wrap her arms around him. The rest of the group followed shortly thereafter, resulting in a giant group hug in the middle of the choir room.

Emma couldn't speak for fear that she would burst into tears. She silently picked up Charlotte and the little girl whispered in her ear, "Why is everyone sad? I thought the song was good."

"Not sad, Munchkin." Emma replied. "Grateful."

"Oh." Charlotte nodded even though a look of confusion was firmly plastered on her face.

The two girls sat to the side as Will and the kids got down to business. During a particularly upbeat number, Will pulled Charlotte off Emma's lap and twirled her around, handing her off to Puck who taught her exactly what it meant to Twist and Shout.

By the end of rehearsal, Charlotte was so exhausted, she had conked out on Will's shoulder as he struggled to hand out sheet music with his one free arm.

The kids chorused various farewells as they exited the choir room and before Emma knew it, she was following Will's car on the way to his house to have dinner with his family. She couldn't even remember agreeing to go in the first place. Some mention of dinner left his lips, a slight question mark at the end, and she found herself nodding even though she had no idea what he had asked.

The trek from the car to his apartment was filled with a now-awake Charlotte describing how she wanted to show Jack her Twist and Shout.

Will put the key in the door and as soon as it swung back, Charlotte was off like a rocket yelling, "Uncle Jack! Lookit!"

Will held onto Emma's elbow as she attempted to pass into the apartment.

"Hang on for a sec."

She looked at him wide-eyed as the door swung shut again with a _thunk._

"I just needed a minute before…" he gestured to what lay beyond the door. "I just… I wanted…" Will trailed off, his forehead creased in frustration. "There are so many things I want to say to you."

"I broke up with Carl," she blurted out, her hand flying to her mouth.

"What?" Frustration gave way to shock.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to just… come right out with it."

"But, you broke up with Carl? When?"

Her nose scrunched. "Last night. Before you called."

And shock gave way to worry. "Why didn't you tell me? Are you okay?" He placed his hands on her arms and the urge to cry almost overwhelmed her. Here he was, madly in love with her, and when she tells him what he's probably been waiting months to hear, his first feeling is not love, or victory, or relief, but concern.

Emma nodded and a tear slipped down her cheek. "I'm okay. I know I don't look it, but I really am okay. I have no idea why I'm crying," she trailed off, laughing slightly. She focused on the flickering light at the end of the hall in an effort to control her emotions. She knew if she looked at him, she'd lose it all over again.

"I'm sorry things didn't work out between you two," he said, his sincerity clear.

"I'm not. He was good for me, but… " She tried to find the words, "not the one for me."

The air in the hall was thick and neither dared breathe. Finally, Emma chanced a glance at his face and she saw all of her fears and hesitations echoed there.

"Will, I can't do what we did last time. You just lost your mother, I just broke up with Carl."

"We need to give it time," he said, voicing the thoughts in her head.

"We do." Though her voice was steady, more tears fell, betraying the pain she felt at having uttered those words. They both knew it was for the best. It didn't mean they had to be happy about it.

Will reached up and wiped her tears with his thumb. "We don't have to do dinner, you know."

"No, no! I want to." She sniffed and fanned her face in an attempt to dry her eyes. "I really want to."

He gently blew warm breath across her cheeks to help her efforts. "Better?"

She laughed and nodded, "Better."

He made a move to open the door, but paused, turning back to her. "Can I just…?" He held his arms out and she fell into his embrace, as he gently rocked her back and forth. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to the shell of her ear and quietly hummed, "God only knows what I'd be without you."

She exhaled loudly, closed her eyes, and held on tighter.

Time passed.

_Minutes. Hours._ She couldn't keep track anymore, not with his arms around her.

_Days. Weeks._ Jack eventually left, taking Charlotte with him, the faculty stopped treating Will like glass, and Will started smiling like he used to.

Their relationship had not progressed and, oddly, both were okay with that. Will was still finding his footing in a world that was now one parent short and Emma was attempting to progress without Carl there to hold her hand.

She kept thinking back to that day. The day she put Will in a car and drove him to his mother's funeral. She tried to remember the beginning, the first few hours when Will's world fell apart. All it had taken was a phone call. She had been acting on autopilot, on instinct, but when she tried to remember the details, things became more difficult. The way his hand gripped hers while tossing in a fitful sleep; the smile he reserved only for her when the rest of the world gave him pitying glances.

Never once did she ever think that Will would have to return the favor.

And then her phone rang.


	8. Repetitions

_Repetitions_

Emma had been sitting in her office when she heard.

She was staring at the recommendations on her desk, which wouldn't write themselves when the vibration of her phone made her jump. She fumbled through her bag to find an unfamiliar number lighting up her screen. Frowning, she flipped it open and pressed it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Emma Pillsbury?"

"Speaking."

"This is Margaret from Inova Alexandria Hospital…"

And that's when the ringing in Emma's ears began.

Her father's name was mentioned, something about a heart attack. She heard her voice distantly assure them that she'd be there as soon as she could, but her hands were shaking so badly, she couldn't end the call. It had all happened so quickly, she wondered if she imagined it, but the tears quietly streaming down her face were a cold reminder that she hadn't. She automatically began gathering her things, not registering that she had packed up her stapler along with her wallet, or noticing Rachel walk by the office, turn and go bolting down the hall.

Her father had a heart attack. He was in the ICU. Virginia was a nine and a half hour drive away. Her brother was in Boston. Did he know? Would he get there in time? Would she get there in time? The questions flew at her faster than her mind could answer.

The distant sound of footsteps echoed off the sterile walls but Emma paid them no heed as she frantically tried to find her keys.

Will came careening down the hallway, Rachel hot on his heels, almost missing her door as he skidded to a stop. His skin was pale and his expression was panicked but all Emma could think about were the two words that left his lips.

"I'm here."

She blindly reached for him through her tears and pulled him to her as tight as she could, like a life raft in a storm.

"I have to go. I have to go right now," she babbled, letting go of him and shoving random things into her bag. A pencil, a tape measure.

"Em, Em," Will reached for her hands. "What happened?"

"My Dad had a heart attack. He's in the ICU. My brother's in Boston. Oh god, my mom…" Emma's hands flew to her cheeks. "My mom's alone. I have to go," she repeated.

"Okay, okay. Breathe," he gently commanded as Emma began hyperventilating. "Rachel, go get some water," he threw over his shoulder before returning his focus on her. "Emma, look at me."

She raised her eyes to meet his.

"We'll get through this."

Emma nodded, her throat tight, thinking back on a time just three weeks and a half weeks ago when the roles had been reversed. Will moved towards her computer and began typing things in.

"What are you doing? We have to go," Emma sniffed.

"Booking a flight," he replied.

"No, no you don't have to do that. We can drive," she said, panic in her voice.

"Emma, Virginia must be a ten hour drive away."

"Nine and a half," she answered hollowly.

"Close enough. Look," he said, pointing to the screen. "There's a flight in two and a half hours. The airport is an hour from here, the flight's another hour and DC is a 30 minute drive to Alexandria. We'll be there in half the time."

"That's… that's good. Half the time is good, but…" she tugged at the sleeve of her sweater.

"But…" he prompted.

"I've never been on a plane before."

"Then you have nothing to worry about because I'll be there to hold your hand." He smiled and clicked "confirm" on their reservation.

Rachel returned with a paper cup full of water and handed it to Emma. "Here you go, Miss Pillsbury."

Emma silently took it and Will smiled at her gratefully. "Thank you, Rach."

Rachel nodded and backed out of the door. "I'll cover glee practice, Mr. Schue." Before he could offer another thank you, she disappeared down the hall again.

Three weeks and five days – that's how long it had been since Molly Schuester died. It was too soon to suffer through something like that again.

Will pried the keys out of Emma's hand. She had been holding on so tight, an angry mark blossomed on her palm.

"Let's go, Em. We have to get to the airport."

Emma was out the door before Will had even finished his sentence. Three weeks and five days ago, Will had been in shock. But for Emma, it was as if she had taken a shot of adrenaline straight to the heart.

She could hear Will's footsteps jogging after her, but the only thought running through her mind was _walk faster, _because the longer it took to get to Virginia, the farther her father slipped away from her.

"Em, hold up for a second."

Emma slowed as Will ducked into the choir room to grab his bag. She briefly worried about the kids and whether Will should leave them a note, but no doubt Rachel would take care of that. Will appeared in the doorway, bag slung over his shoulder.

"Let's go." He grabbed Emma's hand and led her down the hall, but she gave a tug, halting him.

"You don't have to come, Will. You've been through enough."

He looked at her in disbelief before continuing on, as if the suggestion was too ridiculous to even warrant a response.

"We'll take your car," he replied, opening the door and letting the frigid air wash over them. The numbness that Emma felt had absolutely nothing to do with the weather. Her breath started to quicken as her heart beat a brutal rhythm against her chest. She reached out for him as her eyes started to roll back into her head.

"Will…" she managed to whisper before her knees gave out. Fully expecting to hit the hard pavement, she was surprised when the inevitable crash never came.

"Emma!" Will's voice was laced with panic as he scooped her into his arms. "Emma, look at me."

Her eyes fluttered open and his frightened face gradually came into focus. "My ears are ringing."

Will nodded and carried her the rest of the way to the car. "You need to breathe, Em. Slowly. In and out," he coached as he gently put her down and fished her keys out of his pocket. "That's it, nice and slow."

Her breathing evened out and the dizziness subsided. "I need to go home."

"We're on our way," Will reassured as he helped her into the front seat, placing a kiss on her forehead.

The airport in Dayton was relatively quiet – not the hustle and bustle she had seen in the movies.

Will's hand rested gently on her lower back, a constant reminder that he was with her, as she stared at the security screening with trepidation.

The TSA officer instructed her to remove her sweater and her shoes and she looked incredulously at the gray plastic bin in which they expected her to dump all of her belongings.

"Will." She sought out his hand and he gave her a reassuring squeeze.

"It's okay," he said, laying his jacket down in the bin first, creating a buffer between her sweater and the plastic. "Put it on top of mine."

She nodded as he helped her slip the cardigan off. Will had shown enough forethought to put an extra pair of socks in his suitcase so Emma could slip them on when she removed her shoes. She almost burst into tears when he quietly handed them to her to pull over her stocking-ed feet.

After being given the all clear, Will took hold of their suitcases as Emma sanitized her hands, before walking towards their gate.

The ride to the airport had consisted of two phone calls: a frantic one from her brother and a hysterical one from her mother. Emma didn't know which was worse, but both succeeded in making her even more anxious than she already was. She was constantly moving – her foot bouncing, her fingers tapping. Will had to periodically remind her to slow down her breathing so she didn't pass out again. The thought of sitting still for an hour in a metal can whizzing through the air was enough to make her ill.

They hadn't packed much. Just enough to fill a suitcase small enough to fit in the overhead compartment. After Emma hung up with her brother, Will called the car rental company to ensure they'd have a way to get from the airport to the hospital without making a family member come pick them up.

Will slumped heavily into the padded chair and leaned his head back, rubbing his temples. It couldn't be easy on him. He had just lost his mother. Emma hated herself for making him relive those feelings. Biting her lip, she tried to stop the telltale shake that happened whenever she tried to hold in her tears, but it was useless. Will's head shot up and his arm was around her before she could even draw in breath.

"I'm here," he repeated, rubbing his hand up and down her arm. "I'm not going anywhere."

She leaned into his embrace as they waited for their flight to be called. "Is this how it felt?"

"How what felt?"

"I talked to my dad yesterday. I told him about the kids' performance at the school assembly. He said you sounded like a wonderful teacher." She inhaled and her voice caught. "I told him you were. Then he said," She inhaled another shaky breath as a sob escaped her lips, "G'night, Ladybug.' And that was it." Emma buried her face in his shoulder, soaking his shirt.

"Yes, this is exactly what it felt like," Will whispered as he placed a kiss on her head.

Emma didn't know how long they sat like that, her face pressed into his chest, his fingers running soothing tracks up and down her back. A voice came over the loudspeaker and announced that Flight 726 to Washington DC was about to begin priority boarding. Emma wiped her cheeks and tried to make herself look presentable as Will whispered that he'd be right back. Emma watched him go jogging off and she glanced around the terminal.

She should love airports: they were clean, organized, structured. There seemed to be a manual for everything, from how to escape during a water landing to how to flush the toilet. Manuals were right up her alley.

Will returned a minute later, handing Emma a few magazines and a cup of tea.

"Chamomile. Just in case the ride's a little bumpy, I figured you'd need something to distract yourself."

Emma's throat closed up and she swallowed, offering only a grateful smile because words were failing her at the moment.

Their row was announced and Will dug the tickets out of his pocket and took hold of the suitcases.

"I probably should have put something stronger in this," Emma whispered.

"They sell liquor on the plane."

"Thank god."

Will chuckled and she took a small amount of pleasure in knowing she was still able to make him laugh, despite the sharp ache in her chest.

"Oh goodness," she muttered upon seeing just how small the cabin was. Will wordlessly put their suitcases in the compartment and took her hand.

"Window or aisle?"

"Window. No, aisle." Emma twisted her bracelet around her wrist. "I really don't want to know how far off the ground we are."

Will nodded and slid in first. Emma was so distracted by the handles, levers, and buttons flashing through the open cockpit door that she didn't even bother worrying about how clean the seats were before she plopped down into one.

"You said they serve alcohol on these flights?"

"Let's get in the air first, sweetheart."

Both froze at the nickname and Emma looked at him wide-eyed.

"Sorry."

She shook her head as a way of saying, "Don't worry about it" but he had turned back to the window, ears pink. Truth be told, she liked the slip of the tongue. It was a warm reminder of possible things to come, of a future that had not yet been lost, despite their many setbacks.

Though her fear of watching the door seal shut had her hyperventilating, it oddly wasn't Will's calming voice that soothed her nerves but rather the very detailed safety procedures performed by the flight attendant in the crisp navy uniform. Out of all the passengers on the plane, Emma was the only one to whip out the manual and follow along. She found it all fascinating.

As the plane accelerated and the wheels left the ground, Emma felt the metal armrest dig into her skin as her grip became vice-like. Will pried her hand off and put it in his as she closed her eyes, comforted by the fact that for every terrifying minute she spent in the air, she was one minute closer to Virginia and her father.

Emma's mind drifted to snowman building and pumpkin carving, Easter egg dying and Christmas light hanging. Her father would place her on the step stool in the kitchen, newspaper spread out across the counter, little bowls of dye neatly lined up awaiting the dozen eggs that lay nestled in their cardboard case. It was the one craft that was messy but not too messy.

She vaguely heard the flight attendant ask if they'd like anything to drink and Will responded with, "A whiskey and a water."

She cracked her eye, watching as the flight attendant placed a cup of water and a mini bottle of whiskey on the tray in front of her. Will thank her before unscrewing the top and pouring some of the liquid into Emma's tea.

"Say when."

Only when the last drops of amber liquid disappeared into her tea did she whisper, "When."

She brought the cup to her lips in an effort to block out the images that flew at her faster than she could process them: Christmas mornings, after school pick-ups, hugs, heart-to-hearts, arguments, apologies.

The doctored tea burned her throat and, before she knew it, she was quite tipsy. The whiskey sloshed around her empty stomach, making her head swim. The captain came on and announced they were beginning their descent into Washington DC.

"You okay?" Will brushed her hair out of her face.

Emma let out a noise that was half laugh, half sob. "I just want it to stop."

"You just want what to stop, honey?"

"The memories. They won't go away." Emma pressed her palms against her eyes hard enough to see spots. Will gently pulled them away.

"Don't ever wish that, Em. I know it hurts now, but we'll get through this."

Emma closed her eyes, causing a tear to fall down her cheek. "Thank you for coming, Will."

"Emma, you would have had to lock me in the choir room to keep me from coming and even then I would have kicked the door down."

He was so skilled at keeping her distracted, she didn't even know they were preparing to land until the wheels actually hit the ground. She let out a little yelp as the initial impact startled her.

Her anxiety was back and she began tapping her foot against the seat in front of her in an effort to keep from pulling the emergency handle and bolting off the plane.

Without a word, he reached over and placed a hand on her knee, stilling her movements. Warmth shot up her entire leg and the breath she had been holding in came out in a loud _whoosh._

The "Fasten Seatbelt" sign went off with a _ding_ and Emma was out of her seat before Will even had time to unbuckle his belt.

Though they saved time by carrying on their luggage, the rental car took longer than Emma had hoped and it was only Will's hand on her back that kept her from jumping over the counter and throttling the crank in charge of the keys. Fear was eating at her, slowing spreading from her heart through her chest, and down every limb of her body.

"What if my brother got held up? New England weather isn't great this time of year," she commented, toying with her necklace.

"I'm sure he made it, Em. But why don't you call him?"

She debated for a minute, before pulling out her phone and rapidly dialing her brother's number.

"Dammit, James, pick up." Emma sighed. "Voicemail."

"If he's not answering, it means he probably at the hospital. They don't allow phones," Will reasoned.

Though Emma knew he had a valid point, her stubbornness refused to acknowledge common sense.

When the keys were finally placed in Will's hand, they both jogged to the car and made the 30 minute drive in a cool 22.

As they pulled into the crowded parking lot, Emma wondered just how many people in the greater Alexandria area were sick to warrant this many visitors. Finally finding a spot on the highest level of the garage, Will pulled the car into park as Emma stared up at the glass and concrete building.

"You can do this, Em."

She tore her eyes away from the hospital and stared into his.

"We're going to do it together," he continued.

The comfort she felt at his words washed over her and she slumped in her seat, the tension finally releasing its hold on her shoulders.

They made their way to the entrance and up to the front desk, inquiring as to fastest way to the ICU.

"Follow the red line," the nurse said, pointing to the floor.

"I feel like I'm in the Wizard of Oz," Will muttered as they made their way down the hall. A blue line split off to the left, a green to the right. The red continued straight until they came to a paired of sealed doors bearing the harsh label, INTENSIVE CARE UNIT, in unforgiving script.

They rang a buzzer and the doors opened to reveal a couple of women in pink scrubs sitting behind the nurses' desk.

"Excuse me, I'm Emma Pillsbury, Nathan Pillsbury's daughter."

The nurse closest to them replied, "Room 403, sweetheart. Down the hall to the right. Judy will show you."

A smaller nurse with hard features came around the desk and held up a hand to Will. "Family only, I'm afraid."

"I'm her fiancé," he replied without missing a beat.

The words were out of his mouth before either had time to react. The nurse gave a curt nod and spun on her heel, making a small gesture for them to follow. Emma snuck a sideways glance at Will and he seemed just as surprised as she was at the turn of events.

The ICU was overwhelming. Sliding glass doors, doctors in white coats, machines being wheeled in and out of cordoned off rooms.

"Mama," Emma whispered as she spied the older woman hunched over in an uncomfortable chair. "Mama?" she said a little louder. Her mother looked none the worse for wear, besides the tear tracks and worry lines. Emma jogged the final few steps and fell into her mother's embrace. "I'm here, Mama."

"Oh, baby girl, I'm so happy you made it. How did you get here so quickly? I wasn't expecting you for another five hours at least," she said, brushing the hair back from her daughter's face.

"I didn't drive. I flew."

Adeline Pillsbury's eyebrows shot up. "You flew? Who on earth got you on a plane?"

Emma turned around to find Will sheepishly standing there, his hands shoved into his pockets.

"He did. Mama, this is Will, my…" she glanced at the nurses' station just over her shoulder, "… well… my fiancé."

"Oh my," her mother said, her hands flying to her cheeks. The rapidity with which her mother's skin paled made Emma think that lying might not have been such a good idea, but shock gave way to joy as a smile blossomed across her mother's face. "Oh, sweetheart, I'm so happy for you!"

Emma and Will weren't even "Emma and Will." They had no status. Yet in the past ten minutes they had gone from complicated to complicatedly engaged.

Emma was glad that her mother's whirlwind of emotions kept her from looking at her daughter's naked ring finger.

"Where's James?"

"Calling Kate and Ben to say goodnight. Ben was in camp today and they didn't want to pull him out. They're coming tomorrow."

"What did the doctor say?"

"Critical but stable. They don't… " Adeline placed a hand to her chest and inhaled, the first sign of a chink in her armor, "… they don't know when or if he'll wake up."

"Like Kurt's dad," Emma whispered. She felt Will take her hand and she squeezed as if her life depended on it. Sometimes she thought it did. "Can I see him?"

Adeline nodded and gestured to the room behind them. Will offered to grab coffee for the family and give Emma the moment alone with her father.

The room was dim and the repetitive beeping of the EKG was frightening, yet soothing. "Daddy?" Emma inched further into the room. Her father didn't look like himself. He was pale and gaunt with a tube coming out of his mouth and an IV in his arm. "Daddy, I know you can hear me, so…" she moved close enough to take his hand, "I just want to say I love you, and I'm here. And you need to wake up soon because I brought a boy home and you need to interrogate him in that loveably scary way you have." She bent down and placed a kiss on his hand and one on his forehead. "Please wake up, Daddy."

Will returned ten minutes later, handing a cup of coffee to Adeline and one to Emma as he gently pulled her away from her mother.

"Will, what - "

Emma fell silent as he pulled a silver gum wrapper out of his pocket before folding it into a thin line and twisting it around her ring finger.

"It's all I could find."

Emma's breath hitched as the light caught what, to most, would just be considered a simple piece of trash. But to Emma, it was so much more: a gesture, a joke, an apology, a confession, a promise.

He shrugged. "This will have to do for now."

"Yes," Emma replied. "It will."

_For now._


	9. Transparencies

_Transparencies_

Pain shot through Emma's neck and she stretched, accidentally knocking Will in the head.

"I know I lied about being your fiancé, but there's no need to hit me."

Her eyes fluttered open from where her head lay on his shoulder. "Sorry." She sat up and Will's hand gently rubbed circles on the back of her neck. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. "Did I miss anything?"

He shook his head. "The doctor made his rounds, but no change."

Emma glanced at her mother, whose head was resting against her brother's shoulder. He had been wary of Will when she introduced the two of them. Though she and James didn't necessarily speak regularly, she did consider them close. To show up out of the blue with a fiancé was probably not something her brother was prepared for.

"You two should take Mom home," James said. "I'll stay here."

"What time is it?"

"A little past midnight," Will replied. Emma nodded as James gently shook their mother awake.

"Mom?"

She bolted upright as if someone had just thrown a bucket of water on her. "What's happened?"

"Nothing, Mama. No change." Emma stood and walked over to her mother and brother. "Will and I are going to take you home. James will stay here."

She looked reluctant, glancing from her children to the room their father occupied.

"Mom, it'll probably be hours before we hear anything and I'll call you the minute I do," James reasoned.

Adeline nodded as Will held out his hand, helping her up. "Thank you, dear." She took his face and kissed both of his cheeks. "I never properly welcomed you into the family. I'm sorry this is your first introduction to it."

He gave her a sad smile that did not reach his eyes. "I wish it could have been under better circumstances."

She patted his cheek once more and turned toward her son.

"You call me the minute you hear anything."

"The second, Mom, I promise." James kissed Emma on the cheek, only offering Will a nod. "I'll see you guys tomorrow morning."

The ride home was nauseating, the roads relentlessly winding. Emma watched Will grip the steering wheel and ably negotiate the dark turns on the country road. Her mother sat peacefully in the front seat, gazing out the window without really seeing.

"Left up here," Adeline said, automatically.

Will nodded and turned the car as Emma's childhood home came into view. It was dark, its lights forgotten in the rush of a tragic afternoon. She had played many games in that yard as a little girl: tea parties, damsel in distress rescues, fashion shows. But then she turned eight and decided she wanted to be a dairy farmer. That's when the outdoor games came to an end.

As Will put the car into "park," Emma unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out into the cool air, inhaling the sent of pine and burning wood from some far off fireplace.

Will shut the front door behind the two women and Adeline wrapped her arms around Emma, holding her close. Emma inhaled the familiar scent of her mother and closed her eyes tight against the tears.

"Emma, you and Will are in your old room." Adeline said, pulling away and reaching for Will. "Thank you for getting her here, sweetheart." She wrapped her arms around him and he gingerly rubbed her back.

"Of course," he replied. Adeline released him and trudged up the stairs, Emma following her every move.

"You look like you're about to collapse," Will murmured in her ear.

She nodded and reflexively reached for his hand, leading him up the stairs. "I'll give you the tour tomorrow." The gum wrapper shifted as his fingers threaded through hers and she twisted her wrist to stare at the silver paper.

Will gave a sheepish chuckle, "I had to improvise."

"I like it." Neither knew if she was talking about the wrapper or the sentiment behind it.

Emma nudged the door to her room open and nostalgia washed over her as she stood in the doorway. The light pink walls complemented the white lace bedding, but other than an old jewelry box and a hope chest, the room was relatively bare. She had gotten rid of her toys one summer when it had become too difficult and time consuming to clean them after every play date.

Will cleared his throat and Emma followed his gaze to the queen-sized bed. "Mama usually cares about stuff like this… tradition and whatnot, but right now I don't think she's worried about putting us in separate rooms."

"Nothing we haven't done before." Will gave her a reassuring smile before falling face first on the bed and groaning into the pillow. "'m tired," he said, his voice muffled.

Emma crawled up next to him a little more gracefully. "Me too." She toed off her Mary Janes and laid down beside him, not even bothering to undress. "I'm sorry."

He lifted his head off the pillow. "For what?"

"When I told you we should take things slow, this isn't exactly what I had in mind. And I'm sorry to put you through this so soon after…" she trailed off, knowing full well he understood her meaning.

He scooted closer and cupped her face in his hand. "Emma, none of this is your fault."

"But," she bit her lip, "you wouldn't be going through this again if it wasn't for me."

Will sat up and pulled her to a seated position as well so she had no choice but to look into his hazel eyes. "I know we said we'd go slow and give things time. But I also know I put a gum wrapper on your finger tonight and that meant more to me than any piece of jewelry I might have given anyone else." He inhaled shakily as Emma's heart thumped louder against her ribcage. "I don't want to scare you, but you need to know… I'm in this for the long haul."

Emma was a whirlwind of emotion: fear, hope, and love were all fighting for dominance within her and she didn't know whether to run from him or kiss him. She went with the latter.

Later, she would chalk it up to her weakened, emotional state, but when her eyes flicked to Will's lips and she leaned in, there was nothing she wanted more in that moment. She closed her eyes, feeling his breath warm her cheek, but just as her lips were about to brush his, he placed a hand on her cheek and pulled back.

She opened her eyes and blinked rapidly, "What?"

"We… when this happens, I want to do it right." His thumb rubbed gentle circles on her jaw line. "This… this isn't right. Not yet."

Emma nodded, knowing full well he was right. He shouldn't have kissed her right after his mother died and yet here she was about to make the same mistake.

"Let's go to bed," he said, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead. "It's been a long day."

She nodded and watched as Will stood up, pulling his shirt off. Her eyes went wide and a noise must have escaped her lips because Will turned around abruptly.

"Oh sorry. Habit, I guess." He held his shirt up to his chest and she almost laughed.

"Nothing I haven't seen before."

His ears turned as pink as the walls and he let the shirt drop to the bed. She had to admit, it wasn't a bad view.

"I guess it would seem odd if we kept changing in the bathroom since we're, you know, engaged and all."

Emma couldn't help the little flip her stomach did at his words. "Right."

They stared at each other for a moment before turning around simultaneously and continuing to undress. Emma unbuttoned her cardigan, using all of her willpower to not sneak a peek over her shoulder.

"My mother seems to like you," she said, making small talk as she un-tucked her shirt from her skirt.

"What's not to like?"

She tossed her cardigan over her shoulder and, judging by the muffled noise that escaped his lips, she assumed it landed on his head.

"Joke, it was a joke."

It wasn't until she unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the carpet that she realized her pajamas were in her suitcase… which was on the floor next to Will.

"Um… Will?" She refused to look over at him.

"Yeah?" He asked, his back still turned from her.

"I, uh, I need my clothes."

"What? Oh." He must have spotted the suitcase. "What do they look like?"

"You've, um, you've seen it before. It's the purple nightgown… with the tie at the neck," she flushed.

"Trust me, I remember it well," he said softly.

She listened as he searched for a minute, her arms crossed protectively over her bra-clad chest.

"Aha, found it." They remained silent for a moment, as if trying to figure out how he would get the nightgown to her without either looking at the other. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you," she replied with a hint of incredulity, as if the notion of not trusting him was outrageous.

"I'm going to close my eyes and turn around and hand this to you. I promise I won't look."

And Emma knew he kept his word because when he turned with his hand over his eyes, he slammed his toe into the foot of the bed. She couldn't help but laugh at the string of profanities that left his mouth.

She took the nightgown from him and slid it over her head. "Are you okay?"

"I'll live."

Her gaze raked over his simple t-shirt and boxers. "You can open your eyes now."

His hand fell from his face and his eyes widened, probably at seeing her in the outfit she had gone dashing out of his apartment in.

They stood for a minute, facing each other, neither sure what move to make. Emma could see right through him: his eyes flicking to her nightgown before darting back to her face, his weight shifting nervously from foot to foot, the unconscious step he took towards her before reigning in the urge. He was her open book, one she liked to read when she thought no one else was looking.

Before she got caught admiring the way the t-shirt stretched across his chest, Emma grabbed her toiletry bag and fled for the safety of the bathroom.

The light above the mirror was harsh against her pale skin, washing her out against the off-white walls. She could pick out every feature that her parents had given her: her mother's hair, her father's hands, her grandmother's eyes, her father's ears, her mother's nose.

An image flashed in her mind before she could suppress it of a child with her hair and Will's eyes. Shaking her head, she squeezed the toothpaste onto her brush and scrubbed the image away.

Exactly two minutes later, she opened the door to find Will waiting on the other side, toothbrush hanging from his mouth.

"All yours," she whispered as she brushed past him.

"Thanks," he responded.

She returned to the bedroom and crawled under the covers. Having never really shared a bed before, she didn't know which side to sleep on. She usually just got in on the side closest to the door and stayed there for the rest of the night. She wasn't a restless sleeper. Will appeared in the doorway and she gestured to the bed.

"Do you have a preference?"

He stood at the foot of the bed and crossed his arms. "I used to. The right side was mine, but… then I sort of moved to the middle." He crawled up the bed next to her. "Tonight I think I'll take the left."

Emma bit her lip as he settled next to her, fully aware that Will took the left side because he wanted no part of Terri lingering. He slipped under the covers and his foot brushed against her leg. She shivered and Will wrapped an arm around her.

"Cold?"

She nodded and curled up into his side. His breath hitched. "Is this okay?"

She felt him nod against her head. The heat from his chest warmed her through her thin nightgown and she inhaled the smell of his t-shirt: fabric softener and something distinctly Will. All of a sudden, an overwhelming feel of despair washed over her and she twisted the fabric of his shirt in her hand, scared that he'd disappear if she let go.

She thought of her father, Will's mother, Carl... things that had touched and changed her life in the past few weeks. Her body began to shake and she buried her face into his shoulder.

"Hey, hey..." Will rubbed soothing circles on her back. "He'll pull through this, Emma."

"It's just not fair."

"What's not fair?" he asked, tilting her chin up.

She hiccupped. "So many things," she said, as tears dropped from her cheek to his shirt. "That my dad might get a second chance when your mother didn't."

"That's not how it works, Em," he replied, his expression pained. "I wish it was. Then maybe the drunk driver would be dead instead of my mom. But that's not really a healthy way to think about things either."

"But what if… what if I lost you tomorrow? Or the next day? I just got you..." The thin thread Emma was holding onto broke, letting loose all of the emotions she had been holding in all day.

"Em, you won't lose me." He took her face in his hands. "I promise you won't." Will pulled her tight to him and rocked her back and forth as she soaked his shirt.

It seemed like hours passed in the span of a few minutes as Emma drifted off, safe in the confines of Will's embrace.

She blinked her eyes open against the sun that streamed through the windows, glancing at her watch. 7:47.

She glanced up at Will's sleeping face and studied him. The worry lines were gone, the permanent crease of stress on his forehead had faded, and a small smile graced his features. She put her head back on his chest – where it had remained all night – and listened to the steady beat of his heart as her cheek rose and fell with his breath. She let her leg become entwined with his, pretending that it was all real. That it was a Monday morning, the alarm would go off soon, and they'd both have to get ready for school.

She was falling back into her pattern, the pattern she had worked so hard to break when he was still married. It was getting easy to pretend again. Too easy.

Will stirred and turned toward her, unconsciously pulling her to his chest, and wrapping a leg around her.

But how could she stop pretending when fantasy and reality kept blurring the lines?

Emma glanced at her left hand and noticed the silver wrapper had fallen off sometime in the middle of the night.

She would blame it on the entire situation, but Emma knew that when Will woke to find her sobbing into his t-shirt, she cried not for her father but for the stupid gum wrapper that shouldn't have meant as much as it did.


	10. Regrets

_Regrets_

"Em, Em you gotta tell me what's wrong." Will's panicked face pleaded with her through her sobs.

She couldn't tell him that she had completely lost her composure because she misplaced a piece of trash. Couldn't tell him that she had just had the best night's sleep in the month since she last spent the night in his arms. Couldn't tell him that she wanted to buy a pack of gum, just so he would have a continuous supply of wrappers to twist around her finger.

"Nothing, nothing. I just need to get to the hospital."

"Okay," he said softly. "Let's go."

Emma stumbled out of bed and only Will's arms kept her from tripping over the sheets.

He kissed her head, "Go take a shower. I'll be downstairs when you're done."

She nodded and managed to wait until he left the room before she tore the bed apart. And there lay the silver gum wrapper in the middle of the sheets, torn in two.

The hot shower washed her tears away. She was conscious to not stay in there forever, knowing her mother was waiting on her. She quickly dried off and dressed, unaware that the blue in her shoes didn't exactly match the blue of her belt.

As she neared the top of the steps, voices filtered up and she was immediately transported back three and a half weeks ago to a hallway dotted with benchmarks of Will's life. Eavesdropping was becoming a hobby.

"My husband was quite good with a guitar," her mother said. "He'd like you."

"I hope so," Will replied. Emma knew her mother was probably exaggerating for Will's sake. Nathan Pillsbury rarely liked anyone the first go around, especially if that anyone was dating his only daughter. Not that she really knew about such things. She had never brought a boy home before.

"I'm sorry we haven't met before. Emma's told us a lot about you."

Emma flushed at her mother's words and buried her face in her hands.

"Uh oh."

"All good things, I assure you. How are the pancakes?"

"Amazing," he replied, mouth full.

"Oh my goodness, what kind of mother am I? I've been so distracted, I completely forgot to get a look at my own daughter's engagement ring."

Emma could practically hear Will's internal struggle for words.

"We, uh, we actually haven't quite gotten that far yet."

"I see." Her mother paused and Emma held her breath. "Forgive me, dear, but I must ask... is Emma pregnant?"

Emma blanched and the distinct sound of Will choking on his pancakes was the signal for Emma to make her presence known.

"Shower's all yours," she said as she walked into the kitchen and patted a still coughing Will on the back.

Will sat at the kitchen table, looking remarkably like a deer right before it connects with a car's front bumper. He stood and gave them both a small smile, before bounding up the stairs.

Emma turned her calculating gaze on her mother. "Mama, are you behaving?"

"Of course I am," Adeline replied. "Here, I made you blueberry pancakes."

Her mother set a plate next to Will's abandoned one, and Emma sat down at the table. "Did James call?"

"Very early this morning. No change."

"Mama, please leave Will alone. He's been through a lot." Emma toyed with her napkin. "And no, I'm not pregnant."

Her mother gave her a small smile that managed to mask the pain in her eyes. "Ah well, a grandmother can dream, right?"

Emma's eyebrows arched, but she said nothing. What could she say, when deep down she dreamed about the same thing?

"I hope you're ready to walk out the door. Your fiancé promised me he'd be ready in ten minutes flat."

Emma still couldn't help the flip her stomach did whenever that word was mentioned. _Fiance._

Sure enough, nine minutes later, Will came down the stairs, coat in hand.

The hospital was busier than it had been the night before. Will held Emma's hand as they walked through the halls, though whether he did it to comfort her or keep up pretenses, she wasn't sure.

The red line disappeared into the doors of the ICU and they entered to find James slumped over in a chair, nursing a cup of coffee. All that was left to do was play the waiting game.

Hours passed. Adeline sat at her husband's bedside, Will flipped through a magazine, Emma counted the tiles on the floor, and James stared at the clock, sparing an occasional glance at Will's hand on Emma's back.

"So, Will, how did you and Emma meet?"

Emma immediately tensed, not because of the question but because of the tone behind it. Her brother had ruined her life when she was eight years old and he spent the rest of his time making it up to her. "Protective" was an understatement.

"I'm the Spanish teacher and Glee Club director at McKinley."

James nodded. "And how long have you two been together?"

Emma jumped in. "A few months."

James eyed his sister. "A few months. That's quick. What happened to the dentist?"

Emma cleared her throat. "It didn't work out."

James turned his gaze to Will and Emma knew that whatever was about to come next would not be good. "Will, didn't you just get a divorce?"

"James." Emma's voice cut through the air. "A word?" She stood and marched over to the vending machine, crossing her arms over her chest. "What the hell is your problem?"

"Don't start with me," he countered. "Something is not right. You come home with a guy for the first time and out of the blue, you're getting married? Emma..." He reached out for her but she backed away. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

"Nothing is going on. I'm..." she swallowed, "Will is a good man and I am marrying him and you're just going to have to deal with that."

"He hasn't even been divorced a year! You're smarter than that!"

"Am I?" She spun on her heel, wanting nothing more than to be out of her brother's company. She could have told him it was all a ruse. She needed Will at her side and the only way to get him past the automatic doors was to say he was her fiance. It was a harmless lie.

But that didn't explain why every time the truth tried to escape, her mouth held it hostage.

Emma made a beeline for Will who looked at her with concern.

"Em - "

Before he could even get his sentence out, she had grabbed his hand and dragged him to his feet, the magazine in his lap falling to the floor.

"Let's go."

Will wordlessly followed her down the hall, out of the ICU, and into the parking lot. Only when they hit the crisp mid-morning air did Will gently take her arm.

"Em. Emma."

She whipped around. "Don't, Will. Please don't say anything."

He stood silently as she paced back and forth in front of him.

"I can't believe him."

"He's just watching out for you, Em. If I had a little sister, I'd do the exact same thing."

She held up a hand. "Please don't defend him. I have no desire to hear it."

She opened her palm for the keys and he slowly placed them in her hand.

"Where are we going?" He asked, jogging after her.

"I don't know yet. I just have to get out of here."

Will scrambled into the car as she started the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot. Emma could feel his gaze on her as she navigated the car towards the heart of town.

"Em…" Will started.

"I don't want to talk about it." She pulled up in front of a brick pub and threw the car into 'park.'

"Emma, it's 11:30 in the morning."

The look she gave him effectively silenced all good advice he might have attempted. She didn't care what time it was. She just wanted to be numb, to suppress the gamut of emotions running rampant within her.

She opened the heavy wooden door and, wiping off the stool, plopped herself down at the bar. As her eyes scanned the plethora of bottles, a feeling of anxiety settled in the pit of her stomach. In her attempt to control her breathing, she vaguely registered Will taking the stool next to her.

Tequila. Gin. Light rum. Dark rum. Vodka. Flavored vodka. Bourbon. Whiskey. Scotch. And whatever that dark, dusty bottle was that had been relegated to the back shelf.

Not being a drinker, Emma felt overwhelmed at her choices and the expectant look from the bartender was not helping things.

"What are you having?"

"Oh gosh." The strong front that Emma had put up since leaving the hospital was starting to crack. "Surprise me."

The bartender cocked an eyebrow and looked at Will. "And you?"

"Just water, thanks."

Emma watched the bartender pull bottles off the shelf, feeling Will's gaze boring a hole into her temple.

"Stop staring."

"Emma. We're in a bar at 11:30 in the morning. You hate bars. You hate alcohol."

"I don't hate alcohol." She winced at the whine in her voice.

He placed his hand over hers and she stared at how perfectly they fit together, palm to palm, his fingers somehow finding their way in between hers.

"I just… I know this isn't real," she gestured between them and her heart broke a little. "But I'd like to think that when I bring a fiancé home, my brother will treat him with more respect than that."

The bartender placed a large murky drink in front of her and she thanked him, not even bothering to ask what was in it.

Will's face was an enigma. He had gotten very good at hiding his pain, and only someone who knew him less than Emma did would think that everything was fine.

"Who says it's not real?"

Emma sighed and stared at her left hand. "I have to tell them eventually."

Will's voice was quiet when he replied, "Do you?"

"Will, we can't – "

"I know," he cut her off. "I know we can't." Both of them looked down as he gently ran his thumb over her bare ring finger.

Before Emma could get lost in the feeling of his hand on hers, she pulled away and took a large gulp of her drink. It was the perfect blend of sweet and sour and Emma licked her lips.

"That's good." She held the drink up and inspected it closer. "That's _really _good."

"Em, slow down," Will said as Emma downed another gulp. She ignored him, the drink hitting her hard and fast.

"You know what my Dad calls me?"

"Ladybug."

Her eyes went wide. "How'd you know?"

"You told me yesterday."

"Oh." Though she was only half a drink in, she was feeling the effects of the alcohol already. It started as a warm, fuzzy feeling in the pit of her stomach and a lightness in her head, like bubbles. "He calls me 'Ladybug' because when I was little I would play this game. I would lay in the grass, perfectly still, until the ladybugs perched on my arms and legs." She took another sip. "The game stopped, but the nickname stuck." She stared at her arm, as if the red and black dotted creatures would somehow magically appear if she focused hard enough. "I wonder what you call a boy ladybug."

Will leaned over her and lifted her chin, looking into her eyes.

"Wow, you are drunk, Miss Pillsbury." He let go, as Emma's hand moved to where he had touched her. It tingled.

"I am not."

Will snorted. "You can't even say that small phrase without slurring the words."

Emma flagged the bartender down and held up her drink. "What_ is_ this?"

"Iced tea," he replied.

Emma giggled. "It's not like any iced tea I've ever had."

The bartender smirked. "It's from Long Island."

"Oh." Emma nodded as if that made complete sense. "Want some?" she asked, practically shoving the drink in Will's face.

"No, Em." Will gently lowered her hand. "I don't want any."

She could feel the pout blossom across her face, even though she wasn't much of a pouter.

Will pulled out his wallet. "We should go."

"No." The finality with which the word slipped out surprised even Emma and her jovial façade slipped a fraction. "Will, my father might die, my brother is an ignorant ass, and my mother pretends she's okay but her sanity, like mine, is hanging on by a very thin thread. So if I want to drink in the middle of the day, I will."

"Damn, girl." The bartender said, refilling Emma's glass. "This one's on the house."

Emma offered the burly man a small smile and a whispered "thank you" as she tried to covertly wipe the tears from her eyes. Will stared her intently before slipping his wallet back into his pocket. She viewed it as his acquiescence and took another gulp of her refreshed beverage.

An hour later, she was throwing darts anywhere but at the board.

"Em, I think you missed," Will said as he emerged from behind his stool, where he found refuge when Emma took aim.

"I'm getting closer," Emma said as she collected the darts from the surrounding wall.

"So says the drunk," Will replied, twisting the pint glass in his hand. When the clock finally clicked from am to pm, Will let himself have a beer, his only for the day. They had been joined by one more patron, a creepy-looking regular named Tom.

"Hey, Bruno!" Emma called to the bartender, because by now of course they had become fast friends.

"Yes, Miss Emma?"

She raised her empty glass, "Another, please."

Will shot Bruno a warning look, which the bartender ignored, and Emma swatted him on the arm. "Be nice."

"I am nice, Em, but at this rate, I'm going to have to carry you out of the bar."

"I'm oddly okay with that." Emma placed the darts on the bar, grabbed her new drink, and headed over to the pool table. Emma's phone rattled against the wood and Will reached out for it. "Don't," Emma commanded. "Let it go to voicemail."

Will retracted his hand, but he didn't look happy about doing so. Emma picked up a pool queue and walked around the table. "How exactly does one play this game?"

Bruno and Will shared a look. "You've never played pool?"

"Well, excuse me but hitting balls with sticks doesn't exactly sound that stimulating."

Will cocked an eyebrow. "Oh it is. Trust me."

Emma's jaw dropped and she flushed. "My, my, Mr. Schuester. Was that a naughty joke? I didn't know you had it in you."

Bruno laughed and Will rolled his eyes and walked over to her. "Do you want to learn or not?"

Emma nodded and Will took the queue from her hand as he lined the balls up in the triangle.

"All right, now just aim and hit." Will struck and the balls scattered.

"Aim and hit. Aim and hit," Emma chanted. She took the queue, lined up, and sent a ball bouncing loudly across the wooden floor. "Oops."

"Close enough," Will chuckled. The distinct sound of Emma's phone rattling across the bar again brought both of their attentions to it. Will walked over and picked it up.

"Will, leave it."

"Emma, it's your mother. I'm not causing her any more stress than she's already feeling." He hit the button and pressed the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

Emma bit her nail and listened to Will's side of the conversation.

"Yes, she's with me… She's okay… Um, sure…" Will held the phone out and Emma vehemently shook her head, not because she didn't want to speak to her mother, but rather she didn't want her mother to hear the distinct slur in her voice. Will glared at her and pressed the phone back to his ear. "She's actually in the bathroom at the moment…. Uh, yes, yes he did…. No it's okay, I know he didn't mean it…. Yes I'll tell her… Okay… Goodbye." Will hung up and met her gaze. "James is sorry."

Emma scoffed and retrieved the wayward pool ball. "I'm sure he is." It took her three attempts to actually keep the balls on the table.

Another hour later, Tom was slumped over his gin, Bruno was singing loudly to the radio, Emma was arranging the straws and olives on the bar, and Will's gaze was following Emma's every move.

"Will?"

"Yeah?"

She flicked an olive. "I think I'm drunk."

He leaned in conspiratorially, resting his chin on her shoulder. "I think you are too."

Her eyes watered and she stared at the perfect rows she had made out of straws, napkins, cherries, and olives.

Will gave her a gentle nudge. "You all right?"

She nodded.

"You lying?"

She nodded again, gesturing to the mini-maze she had built. "I wasn't always like this. And I remember how it was before the accident, which I think makes it even more unbearable." She nudged a wayward cherry into place. "I've gotten used to it in Lima, but being back here, back home…" Emma trailed off and shrugged. "I used to pick flowers and play in the rain. I don't… I don't do that anymore."

"Emma." Will pulled her hands away from the bar. "I promise you, one day, we will dance in the rain."

As she met his gaze, a tear fell down her cheek. "Will?"

"Yeah?"

"Take me home?"

Will sighed, a mixture of amusement and relief. "Absolutely."

Emma attempted to stand, clutching onto the bar when her knees gave out. Will's arms were around her in a second and he signaled to Bruno for the check.

"I'm all wobbly."

"That's 'cause you're all liquored up."

Emma giggled. "I really like iced tea from Long Island."

"Give it a few hours. You might not like it so much then." Will shifted her in his arms so he could pay the bill.

Emma felt fuzzy, like her head was full of cotton, and it took her eyes a second to catch up with the movement of her head. She thought it was funny at first but then it just made her dizzy.

"Come on," he said, scooping her into his arms. "Up we go."

She yelped and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Don't drop me."

"Em, I'm not going to drop you."

She could hear the exasperation in his voice and she felt vaguely guilty for questioning his strength. She had seen him topless before. She knew how strong he was. Emma flushed and shook her head, which only increased her dizziness tenfold. _Bad thoughts. Bad thoughts. _

"Bye, Bruno!" Emma waved over Will's shoulder.

"You take care, Miss Emma."

"Bye, Tom!"

Tom offered a lackluster goodbye before his head clunked back down on the bar next to his drink.

Will set her down and made sure her feet were planted on the sidewalk before he released one hand from her waist to open the car door. His palm was warm on her stomach as he held her to him, and she didn't know if this new wave of fuzziness was from the drink or his grip.

He slowly spun her around to ease her into the seat, but she grabbed the front of his sweater, her nose crashing into his chest.

"You smell good."

His chuckle rumbled in his chest. "So do you." He gently lowered her down and she leaned her head back against the leather and closed her eyes.

"The car is spinning like Dorothy's house in the Wizard of Oz."

"Oh, boy." Will shut the door and jogged around to the driver's seat. "Em, try not to puke in the rental."

"Gross."

The ride home was excruciating and when Will finally pulled up in front of her house, Emma could have gotten out and kissed the ground had she been able to do so without face-planting into the pavement.

"Wait, wait," Will said as he unbuckled his seatbelt. "Wait for me."

He jogged around and took Emma's hands, pulling her briefly into a standing position before hoisting her back into his arms and kicking the door shut.

The house was quiet and Emma was grateful. She didn't need her mother and brother's snide comments about her getting completely sauced in the middle of the day. Will moved around the kitchen but she remained in the foyer, as if her feet were glued to the carpet. He returned a minute later with a tall glass of water and some ibuprofen.

"Drink this. Take these."

She held her hand out and swallowed them down. He grinned that lopsided grin and her knees nearly buckled. Sensing her instability, Will took a step closer and placed his hands on her waist.

"You all right?"

She nodded and he turned away from her, heading for the stairs.

"Come on, let's get you to bed."

"I'm in love with you."

Will froze and Emma's hands flew to her mouth a second too late. She wished she could see his face, but instead all she got was a good look at the tension in his back.

"What?" His voice was small, timid, as if the answer to that simple question could break him. He had yet to turn around so she took a tentative step toward him.

"I love you," she repeated more forcefully. Even she didn't expect the words to come out the first time, but she was prepared the second time around.

Hi shoulders sagged and he finally turned, his gaze nearly leveling her. The love she saw reflected back was almost more than Emma could take.

"I have waited so long to hear you say that," he whispered.

She closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him, feeling his shuddering breaths against her collarbone. She let him pick her up and carry her up the steps, before gently placing her on the bed and brushing her hair away from her forehead. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch.

He began to pull away, but her grip on his wrist was tight and her whisper of "Stay with me" hung in the air.

He nodded and toed off his shoes, sliding in next to her.

"You're going to regret this when you wake up."

She burrowed her face into his chest. "How could I regret this?"

Will chuckled. "You say that now…"

Within minutes, she was drifting off into that hazy slumber of vivid dreams that only alcohol could create.

Emma woke four hours later, disoriented and nearly delusional from the pain pounding in her head. She twisted against the pillow, attempting to find the most comfortable position to ease the throbbing in her brain, a vague warmth still lingering in the sheets next to her.

Finding no sort of comfort, she threw the covers back and stumbled down the stairs, squinting in the kitchen light. Will sat at the breakfast table, reading one of her father's old law journals.

"Oh my gosh, kill me."

He glanced up, a look of joy and concern crossing his face. "Well good evening to you, too."

She glanced around, as if searching for evidence of her debauchery, but there were no bottles to be found. "What happened?"

His smile faltered. "You drank yourself silly for three hours… You don't remember?" His voice was strained, a gentle plea for her to say 'Of course I do.'

But instead, her hands flew to her face in horror. "Oh gosh, I didn't do or say anything stupid did I?

The heartbreak on Will's face would haunt her dreams that night. It was the look of someone who was tired of carrying a load that was too heavy, and who didn't have anywhere to put it down.

Tears clouded his eyes and he cleared his throat. "No. No, you didn't say anything stupid."

Emma frowned as Will's words and his actions didn't match up. "Will? What happened? Did I do something?"

She reached out for him, but he backed away so abruptly, the chair toppled over, startling them both.

"No." He put his hands on his hips and stared at the floor, vainly attempting to keep the wobble out of his voice. "No, you didn't do anything."

The closer she got to him, the further he backed away.

"Will – "

"I have to go," he said, cutting her off and bolting for the door before she could even attempt to dissuade him.

The front door swung shut and she stared at the law journal, forgotten on the table. Just a moment ago, her headache had been debilitating, but now it was just an annoyance compared to the pain that tore through her chest.

She put her face in her hands and sunk into the couch, wishing more than anything it would just swallow her whole. 


	11. Negotiations

_Negotiations_

Emma paced back and forth in the kitchen, eyeing the front door every few steps. It had been an hour since Will walked out of the house and every minute she expected him to return the next. It made for a very long hour.

Her headache had subsided to a faint throbbing and the hardwood floors were cold beneath her toes. She was at a loss as to why Will had fled, but she righted his toppled chair and straightened the law journal anyway.

Coming to the conclusion that Will wouldn't be returning any time soon, she slipped into the shower and scrubbed the afternoon away.

Her stomach was still a little woozy and she nibbled on some saltines as she drove her father's truck to the hospital. The gearshift was tricky and, though her father taught her to drive on this car, she hadn't driven stick in years. She had already stalled out twice on the Virginia hills and the grinding of the gears was not doing wonders for her headache.

The sight of their green rental car in the hospital parking lot brought back the image of the door slamming shut behind Will and her sudden onslaught of tears caught her by surprise. She didn't know why she was crying, though it had been an emotional (and intoxicated) day. She pulled the beat up truck up next to the little sedan and put the gear in 'park,' before resting her head on the steering wheel.

They had been doing so well. Why did it always have to fall to pieces?

She wiped her tears and opened the door, making her way across the walkway connecting the parking garage to the lobby.

The red line guided her faithfully from the front desk to the ICU and her mother enveloped her in her arms almost as soon as the automatic doors had opened.

"Baby girl, I was so worried." The familiar shade of lipstick marred Emma's pale cheek as Adeline pressed two kisses to her face.

Emma tried to pull away but her mother kept a firm grip on her forearms.

"Have, um, have you seen Will?"

Adeline put a finger to her lips and eyed her up and down. Emma knew that no amount of makeup could hide her swollen and tear stained face, especially from the woman who taught her how to cover them up in the first place.

Adeline silently gestured to the room behind them. "He offered to keep him company while James and I grabbed something to eat."

Emma frowned and peeked into her father's room. The sight of Will sitting at her father's bedside speaking in low tones caused her heart to hurt.

"What's he talking about?"

Her mother shrugged. "It seemed to be an important conversation. I wasn't about to listen in."

Emma forced herself to turn from her father's room and focus on her mother.

"Did Will say anything to you?"

An annoyingly knowing smile graced her mother's face. "Just that you weren't feeling well. James took Kate and Ben down to the cafeteria. I came back to ask Will if he wanted anything."

"Kate and Ben are here?"

"They arrived earlier this afternoon." Adeline licked her thumb and wiped off any traces of lipstick from her daughter's cheek. "Ben was asking for you."

Emma's head dropped and she closed her eyes against the guilt – guilt for not being there for her mother, for not greeting her sister-in-law and nephew, for not knowing why Will was so upset.

Emma cleared her throat. "Are they here?"

"Still down in the cafeteria. I'm going to join them."

Emma nodded as her mother squeezed her hand and walked away. Will's low whispering filtered into the hall and she took a few cautious steps closer.

"… the Christmas dance. Winter Wonderland it was called. Emma hates these things, but she wore a beautiful navy blue dress. It went perfectly with the ice theme."

Emma remembered the dance he was talking about. It was the Winter Formal a year and a half ago, just before everything in his life fell apart. She listened to the gentle lilt of his voice and leaned against the wall.

"She's adorable. She presses up against the wall as close as she can without actually touching it. I swear, she has it down to a science."

Emma couldn't help but smile.

"I did get her to dance though. Otis Redding's _White Christmas_. One of the best moments of my life."

Emma's hand flew to her mouth to stifle the noise that threatened to escape. She knew she should have left, but she couldn't make herself. She sat on the floor and listened as he retold their entire history, from the moment she stumbled through the doors of McKinley to the moment she tore out of them after that fateful phone call.

She listened to the pain in his voice as he recounted the horrifying days after he lost his wife and child, the hope as he described his sprint down the hallway to press his lips to hers, and the heartbreak of losing her again.

"I shouldn't have kissed Shelby. I know that. There's no excuse. It was a lapse in… many things. But April..."

Emma frowned. _But April what?_

"I haven't bothered explaining, because there really isn't any point now. But it's not what she thinks."

Emma scooted closer to the door and risked a glance in. Will sat next to her father's bed, head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees.

"She thinks we slept together. I mean, we did… But that's it. We slept… Well, she did. I didn't. She kept kicking me."

Emma would have laughed had she possessed the ability to speak. Will and April never slept together. The basis for her entire campaign to move beyond Will had just taken a fatal blow.

"I don't blame her for thinking that. My behavior didn't exactly instill the greatest confidence… But, Mr. Pillsbury, you have to know I never meant to hurt her."

That was all Emma could take. She pushed herself up from the floor and fled for the vending machines.

_Will never slept with April. Will never slept with April, _she chanted back and forth in her head. She tried to think how much of that faulty information had cost them their fledgling relationship, but she couldn't stomach the result.

She turned and stared at the machines, finding no comfort in the bottles of soda and bags of chips.

"Au Em!"

She turned at the sound of her almost two-year-old nephew. He couldn't quite get all the consonants in her name, but it was close enough. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves and readied herself as Ben toddled over and threw himself into her arms.

"Hello, Benbo." She hugged his tiny body tight to her chest and breathed in the scent of Johnson's baby shampoo. Kate came up to kiss her on the cheek and James stood uneasily behind his wife.

"Emma, how are you?"

Emma shifted Ben to her hip and managed a small smile for Kate. "I'm good."

"She's engaged." James offered from behind.

Emma was tempted to throw something sharp at his head, but settled for a death glare instead. Kate's jaw dropped and she wrapped Emma in a hug.

"Engaged? Oh my goodness!" Kate's arms tightened around Emma and she awkwardly patted Kate's back. Ben's arms loosened around Emma's neck and he planted a kiss on her cheek. "Will? Oh I'm so glad, he was so good with Ben." Kate rambled on but Emma was no longer paying attention.

_Will. Ben._ The image of the two of them caused her thoughts to temporarily malfunction.

Kate pulled away and looked into Emma's eyes excitedly. "When?"

"Next September," Will's voice interrupted. Emma turned to find him standing there in her father's doorway, his hands shoved into his pockets. Emma froze, unsure what to do as Kate let go and wrapped her arms around Will, congratulating him. Kate had never had a problem showing her feelings and Emma felt the slightest twinge of jealously.

Kate pulled away and cupped his face. "I'm so happy for you!"

Emma hiked Ben further up on her hip as she made her way over to Will. It was only right that the betrothed stand next to each other, but Will's eyes never quite found hers. She held Ben a little tighter as Will tentatively wrapped an arm around her waist. Ben reached a pudgy hand out and grabbed Will's nose. Emma felt him chuckle – he always was a sucker for children.

"Well, we have to celebrate!" Kate turned to James and clapped her hands. "Champagne or something."

Just the thought of alcohol caused Emma's stomach to turn and she placed her hand over her mouth. Will's grip on her waist tightened, as if he knew.

"Maybe tomorrow night," James whispered in his wife's ear. "It's been a long day for everybody."

Emma appreciated her brother's sentiment, but her anger still bubbled just beneath the surface. Ben squirmed in her arms and Will reached out just in time to catch him.

"Easy there, Buddy," Will whispered against Ben's temple. Emma bit her lip and swallowed hard as she watched her supposed fiancé bounced her nephew in his arms.

"Will, sweetheart, you haven't eaten yet," Adeline said as she came forward. "Why don't you and Emma go down to the cafeteria?"

"Oh… okay." Will glanced at Emma as if seeking her approval but, noticing the look of pure terror on her face, he responded with, "I think I'll take her home and make her something. She wasn't feeling well."

"Right, right. Of course," Adeline replied as she ushered them to the door. Will handed Ben off to Kate and wrapped his arm around Emma's waist, but as soon as the automatic doors closed behind them, he dropped it.

The loss of his warmth was like jumping into a frozen pond and Emma knew what that felt like. She had fallen through the ice while skating with James when they were six and nine respectively. The feeling of shock and pain was not one she was likely to forget anytime soon.

Will shoved his hands back into his pockets. "Your nephew's cute."

"You don't have to make me food."

Will's head shot up. "I don't mind."

Emma glanced at him sideways as they made their way across the parking lot. His brow was creased in concentration and his shoulders were tense against the wind.

"Will, what happened?"

"Doesn't matter."

She grabbed his arm, halting him. "Yes it does. You ran out of the house like your life depended on it. You wouldn't talk to me, you wouldn't even _look_ at me! So yes. Yes it does matter."

Will had the decency to look guilty as he stared at the cracks in the pavement. "We'll talk about it when we get home."

He continued on towards the car and Emma stared at his retreating back. She dug the keys out of her pocket and stalked after him, throwing the door to the truck open and climbing into the seat. It must have looked comical, the meek guidance counselor behind the wheel of the heavy duty pickup truck, and Will's raised eyebrows and slight grin only confirmed it.

"What?" she snapped through the open window.

He raised his hands and shook his head. "I didn't say anything."

She glared at him as she backed out of the parking space, not bothering to look in the rearview mirror to see if he was following.

Her mood had rapidly gone from shock to hurt before settling on anger. If he wouldn't tell her what she had done wrong, then she wasn't going to dwell on the guilt.

She pulled up in front of her house and grinded the gears into 'park.' Her father would probably give her grief for ruining his car but she relished the thought. She just wanted to speak to him again, she didn't care if he was angry.

She opened the front door and was ready to let it swing shut behind her when Will's hand came up and prevented it from slamming. She made it two steps into the foyer before rounding on him and placing her hands on her hips.

"All right, we're home. Talk."

"I don't know what you want from me, Emma. I used to be able to read you like the Sunday paper, but now…"

"I want the truth. I used to be able to read you too, but for the life of me I can't figure out why the hell you're so upset."

He brushed by her and headed for the kitchen. "I said it doesn't matter."

She followed him. "It does to me!"

He spun abruptly causing her to pull up short. "Why?"

"You lied to me!"

Will backtracked as if that was a direction he had not expected the conversation to turn. "I lied? About what?"

"You never slept with April!"

His eyes went wide and he cocked his head at her. "That's what this is about?"

He looked adorable, but Emma pointed her finger at his chest in an effort to remain on topic. "No that is not what this is about, but it's part of what it's about. Why didn't you tell me?"

He scoffed and turned away from her. "You seemed pretty hell bent on painting me as a manwhore and I just didn't have the energy to argue." He faced her again. "Besides, would it really have made a difference?"

"Of course it would have!" She could feel the blood pounding in her ears. "I'm a virgin, Will! Hearing that you slept with someone else obviously has an effect on my feelings!"

His face softened. "Your virginity was never an issue for me."

She bowed her head, drained. "Just please… tell me what I did."

"I said it doesn't matter, Emma."

"Will!" Her voice echoed off the wooden beams in the farmhouse and she had his complete attention. "What did I do?"

He finally snapped. "You said you loved me!"

"Well I do!" she shouted.

They faced each other, panting, their words hanging in the air. The blood drained from both of their faces and Will took a tentative, cautious step forward.

"You… you love me?" His voice was small, his expression betraying the hope he felt.

"Of course I do," she whispered. She bit her lip as the tears spilled onto her cheeks. "I've loved you for three years. Marriages, pregnancies, and dentists have yet to change that."

"Em…"

She cupped his cheek, running her thumb across the slight scruff. "I'm sorry I was drunk the first time you heard those words from me. But I meant them."

Nothing Will did could hide the tears in his eyes. "I love you too," he choked out.

She smiled. "I know."

Will closed his eyes and rested his nose against her forehead, before letting his lips gently brush across hers. Emma had never felt such a sense of perfection and she grabbed the back of his head and deepened the kiss, letting him know just how happy she was. She pulled away and rested her face against his shoulder, inhaling his scent. She could have stayed there forever, but her eyelids drooped as he ran his fingers through her hair.

"I'm sleepy," she mumbled against his shirt.

"You wanna go to bed?"

She nodded. "I don't care that it's 8:00."

He chuckled and she listened to the rumbling in his chest. "I won't judge."

She shrieked as he scooped her up and carried her up the stairs. "You have a habit of doing this."

"Only when you're drunk or tired."

She rested her head against his shoulder and he held her closer to his chest.

"You know, I got a good look at all those baby pictures while you were passed out."

"Oh geez." Emma always thought she was an awkward looking child. Her parents' friends called her 'cute,' but with her big eyes and red hair, Emma hated that people always thought she was perpetually startled.

Will nudged the bedroom door open with his elbow and carried her inside. "You were, and still are, adorable."

He set her down and placed a kiss on her forehead.

"I heard you talking to my dad," she whispered.

Will pulled away and looked a bit sheepish. "I wanted him to get to know me."

Tears pricked Emma's eyes. "He'll love you."

Will laughed. "After he chases me with a baseball bat."

"You're faster than he is. I wouldn't worry." Emma laughed but the smile slipped from her face when Will failed to laugh with her. "What's wrong?"

He inhaled and looked at her. "I have something for you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a jewelry box. Emma's heart pounded against her chest and her hands flew to her mouth.

"Will…"

"I know it's not technically official but it's better than a gum wrapper."

"Where did you get this?" Emma breathed.

"Your mother." He shrugged and smiled. "When she found out that you didn't have an engagement ring, she gave me this. I've been carrying it around for a day and it's been burning a hole in my pocket." The smile slipped from his face. "I didn't want to frighten you, but I figured that if I didn't give it to you soon, she'd start to get suspicious."

Emma nodded, unable to form a coherent sentence, and silently held out her left hand. Will stared at it for a second before meeting her gaze. She saw the uncertainty in his eyes but she felt nothing but calm as he shakily took her hand and slipped the cold piece of gold onto her finger.

"It was my grandmother's," Emma said as she stared at the diamond and sighed. "We're gonna have a lot of explaining to do when we get back."

"Why?"

Emma gave him a look. "My parents think we're engaged, your father doesn't even know we're dating and the kids…" her face paled. "Oh gosh, the kids. What do we tell them?"

"One crisis at a time, sweetheart." And for once, he didn't look guilty as the term of endearment easily rolled off his tongue. "Think of this as a sort of test run."

Emma pondered his words for a moment. "Well, I guess it's okay because after we officially become engaged, our parents will already be used to the idea."

Will looked at her as if his voice had just been stolen. He stared, saying nothing for so long that Emma frantically started babbling to fill in the increasingly awkward silence.

"Well, I mean, like you said, a test run… I figured that after we go back and actually, you know, date for a bit, you could reintroduce me to your father as your girlfriend. We can be a little fuzzy with my parents on the exact timeline of things. I'm pretty sure Mama and Daddy will be okay with a long engagement and it if doesn't work out…" She felt sick at the thought, but plowed on anyway, "… well we can cross that bridge when we come to it." She risked a glance at his shell-shocked face. "Is this…is this plan okay with you?"

She suddenly realized how silly and childish and stupidly optimistic that all sounded, that she was basically telling Will she fully intended them to still be together over a year from then. And not just together, but _engaged._

But Will wasn't arguing, though he also wasn't really saying much of anything and that was starting to worry her.

"Yeah." He cleared his throat. "It's more than okay with me." Shock and wonder and affection clouded his voice and Emma knew that that was it. They were in it for the long haul. Both of them. Together.

Emma stared at the ring on her finger again, and Will followed her gaze. "You may have the ring… and this may be just a 'test run,' but I haven't asked you yet and trust me," the grin that lit up his face caused Emma's stomach to flip, "you'll know when I do."

She reached up and placed another kiss to his lips, a silent thank you for everything he had been and done for her.

"Let's go to bed," she whispered against his lips. He nodded and turned away from her, toeing off his shoes.

"Will."

"Hm?"

"You, um, you don't have to turn away anymore."

He slowly faced her, eyes wide. She stared at him as she slowly unbuttoned her blouse and let it drop to the floor.

"Boyfriends and girlfriends and test run fiancés should be able to get dressed in front of each other." She offered him a small smile and he responded by pulling his shirt over his head and letting it drop next to her blouse.

"Agreed."

Her skirt joined his jeans and she pulled the nightgown over her head as he threw a t-shirt on with his boxers. They stared at each other for a moment, just drinking in the feelings of the other.

They brushed their teeth, each taking their turn with the sink, before returning to the bedroom. Will pulled the covers back, letting Emma slip in between the sheets.

It was so simple, her nightly routine, but sharing it with someone else immediately made it something more.

She fell asleep wrapped up in his arms, comforted by the fact that when she woke the next morning, the ring would still be on her finger.


	12. Fairytales

_Fairytales_

Between the sheet, the blanket, the comforter and her human space heater, Emma was stifling. Hovering in that limbo between awake and comatose, she blindly kicked the covers off and rolled away from Will. In her hazy state, though, she didn't expect his arm to wrap around her waist and pull her back to him.

"Where are you going?"

She smiled against the pillow. "'m hot."

"Yeah you are." His tone had the perfect balance of playful and naughty. Emma giggled and settled in closer to him, his breath cool against the back of her neck.

"What time is it?"

"Early," he muttered into her hair.

"How early?"

"Too early, shhh, go back to sleep."

She chuckled again and listened as his breathing evened out and his grip on her waist gradually loosened. She took a chance during the quiet moment to glance at the ring still gracing her hand. The diamond sent colors dancing off the walls in the early morning light and tears clouded Emma's eyes as she savored the moment with Will's arms wrapped around her and her grandmother's ring on her finger.

Resigning herself to the fact that she wouldn't be getting anymore sleep, she gently scooted out from under Will's arm and slid out of bed.

The house was quiet as the sun just started peeking above the trees. Emma padded downstairs in the bunny slippers that never quite made the move from Virginia to Ohio and wrapped the robe around her waist. The house smelled like pine and burnt wood - a smell she associated with fireside monopoly games and Christmas tree shopping. She placed the kettle on the stove and stared out the window over the sink to the field beyond. Frost had settled on the tips of the grass and she could vaguely make out animal tracks from some creature that had found their backyard interesting.

She crossed her arms and felt the ring dig into her skin. It was an odd feeling, like an interruption in her routine. She wasn't used to the piece of jewelry being there and she kept twisting it around her finger.

The kettle whistled and she jumped, hurrying to remove it from the stove before it got too loud. The house was chilly – always had been. Her father told her it was the ghosts haunting the old farm, and after she had been sufficiently frightened, her mother swooped in and explained it was actually just the wind through the warped floorboards. She sat at the kitchen table and cupped the warm mug in her hands.

"Baby girl, what are you doing awake?"

Emma looked up as her mother entered the kitchen. "Couldn't sleep. What about you?"

Adeline poured a cup of tea and joined her daughter at the table. "I promised your father I'd be there bright and early."

Emma smiled. Even with her father comatose, her mother never broke a promise. Emma decided then that, if her father woke up, she would promise to pay him for the truck that she had undoubtedly ruined the day before.

"Sweetheart," her mother reached across the table and took her right hand in hers. "How are you? I've been awful. I haven't asked you about Will or how he proposed or anything."

Panic flushed Emma's face and she struggled to come up with a decent enough story that was in character for Will and romantic enough for her mother to drop it. "Mama, a lot's been going on, it's really okay."

Adeline smiled. "Well, I'm free now. So spill."

Emma tried to smile convincingly as she searched for a good beginning to her tale. Because that really was all it was: a white lie. But then she let her mind wander back to a place she had worked so hard to forget, a time when her treks through the halls were perfectly planned with his, when her car was a refuge for her not-so-quiet tears, and when a ring mocked her from the fourth finger of his left hand.

It was one of her favorites, that daydream. She would let her mind drift when her office was quiet and the halls were empty of prying eyes through glass walls. She would imagine a time when the only ring involved was the one he was about to put on her finger and she would pretend that she was saying "yes" to him and not to the empty chair across from her desk.

Her mother's expectant gaze pulled her out of her musings and she let the words flow. "It happened, um, recently. Very recently. Last week, in fact."

"You should have called me."

"I know, Mama." Emma tried to hide her exasperation. She was already telling a fake story. She didn't want to be saddled with fake guilt as well.

"We were at the school and - "

"He did it at work?"

"Mama, do you want to hear this story or not?"

Adeline held up her hands in surrender and motioned for Emma to continue.

"A lot of things have happened at McKinley, it's a special place for us." Emma squeezed the mug in her hand and stared out the window in an effort to avoid her mother's calculating gaze. "He, um, he came into my office and he seemed, I don't know, different."

"Different?"

"Nervous. Without explaining, he took my hand and led me down the hall to the window. Classes were in session so no one was around. He asked me if I knew where exactly we were and of course I did." The words were flowing easy now, as if Emma had been waiting to say them all her life. "It was _our_ hallway. The one where he ran after me and kissed me for the first time. Where he fought for me and told me he loved me."

Adeline had tears in her eyes and Emma was surprised to find her throat becoming unusually tight. She swallowed hard.

"He told me he'd always fight for me, always run after me… always love me. And then he asked me to marry him."

"Did he get down on one knee?"

Emma smiled as her stomach flipped at the thought. "Yes, he got down on one knee."

"Well," Adeline wiped her eyes and squeezed Emma's hand. "I know what you've told us about him. About his marriage, his divorce, his… extra-curricular activities."

Emma closed her eyes, immediately regretting telling her family about her prior heartbreak. "Mama…"

"But that's all in the past now," Adeline continued. "He sounds like a wonderful man. He _is _a wonderful man."

"Yes," Emma whispered. "Yes, he is."

Adeline wiped her eyes again and leaned back in her chair, "Goodness me, I'm a mess." She took another sip of her tea and placed the mug in the dishwasher. "I better not keep your father waiting," she said, kissing Emma on the head and heading upstairs to shower.

Emma stared at the empty chair her mother had vacated, pondering her words. So that's why James had reacted so hostile yesterday. Emma had called her parents in tears on more than one occasion and she remembered, quite vividly, Will's name falling from her lips in between sobs. She knew once they got to know him, really know him, he'd fit right in as if he'd been there all along.

A floorboard creaked and she looked up to find Will leaning against the wall, a goofy grin on his face.

"What are you doing up?"

He gave a small shrug. "Bed got cold." The grin remained.

"What?" she asked, frowning at him.

"Nice story," he replied.

Her brow creased in confusion. "What?"

Will lifted his left hand and pointed to his fourth finger.

"Oh." Emma's cheeks burned. "That was… I don't know."

"Beautiful." He took a step closer. "It was beautiful."

"It was the best I could come up with on short notice."

He sat at the table and picked up her left hand, running his finger across the ring as his smile faded. Emma's pulse quickened as he stared intently at the piece of jewelry. Did he regret it? Did he want to tell everyone the truth? Any minute she expected the words "This was a mistake" to cut through the morning air, but instead what she got was:

"I'm so sorry, Em."

_Wait_. "What? Why?"

"I heard what your mother said."

_Oh._ Emma closed her eyes and shook her head, but Will's voice broke through her thoughts.

"I never, ever meant to hurt you. You have to know that."

Before he could work himself up into too much of a guilt-induced frenzy, Emma placed her hand on his arm and brushed the wayward curls off his face.

"Sweetie, I know you didn't. Let's move past it. I don't want to dwell on that anymore."

Will had frozen as her hand hovered near his temple, and just when she was about to ask if she had done something wrong, a grin broke out across his face.

"You called me 'Sweetie."

She smiled. "I did."

"I liked it."

"Good." Emma bit her lip. He looked so adorable sitting at her kitchen table in pajama pants and a t-shirt, hair perfectly mussed, eyes not quite awake. "If you're going to be a part of this family," she continued, "I think you need to know a little bit about it. Now I promised you a tour…" she stood in her bunny slippers and held her hand out to him. "So let's go."

His hand was warm in her palm and she held on to it to banish the chill in her fingers, leading him into the living room. She hadn't even been in there yet, so busy were their days.

She watched Will take in the fireplace on the far wall and the wooden beams that stretched across the ceiling. Morning light streamed in through the large windows on either side and Will released her hand as he made his way over to the mantle. Pictures dotted the dark wood, marking moments in her and her brother's lives.

Will smiled softly and picked up one from which a six-year-old freckled-faced Emma gave a toothy grin. Cake was smeared across her nose and she smiled, showing off her missing two front teeth, as her tongue peeked out and tried to reach the chocolate frosting.

"That was James' 9th birthday. He shoved cake in my face. I didn't mind at the time."

Will chuckled. "I can tell." Will placed it reverently back on the mantle and picked up another one. "And this one?"

Emma peered over his shoulder and saw herself seated on the back of a brown pony. "I was seven. I think it was a field trip." She inhaled and let her breathe go with a _whoosh_. "There aren't many pictures of me between the ages of 8 and 30."

Will nodded, but remained silent. She appreciated it. She watched as he made his way around the room, carefully examining every picture and every trinket. It felt weird to open this part of her life up – a part that no one outside of the Pillsbury family had seen – especially to a man that had made such an impact on her.

"That corner there," she pointed to the fireplace hearth, "is where I cracked my head open when I was ten. James was chasing me with a frog and I tripped. That," she pointed to a spot on the floor, "is where I spilled nail polish remover and ruined the hardwood floor. The rug has been there ever since. My father is a lawyer. My mother was a nurse, until she stopped to take care of us… well, me. Just me, really." Emma felt somewhat ashamed at the revelation, that she needed more care than her brother who always seemed to land on his feet. There was resentment somewhere inside of her, but she refused to examine it further. She felt enough toward her brother. She needn't feel more. "After we went off to college, she headed up all sorts of committees. She's practically famous in Alexandria."

Will smiled appreciatively, but his eyes never quite met hers. Immediately, she realized why and her hands flew to her mouth.

"Oh, Will, I'm so sorry." Here she was, going on and on about her mother, when he had lost his not a month ago.

"It's okay, Em."

"No, it's not."

"Emma." He stepped forward and took her hands in his. "It is." Placing a kiss on her forehead, he inhaled her scent and ran his fingers through her hair. "I love you."

She smiled against his chin. "I love you too."

Someone cleared their throat and Will stepped away from Emma, revealing Kate holding a squirmy Ben in her arms. "Good morning." She smiled mischievously and Emma flushed.

"Morning," Emma replied and smiled as Ben gave a sleepy wave from his mother's arms. His blanket was tucked firmly under his arm and his pacifier bobbed in his mouth the harder he sucked on it. "How did you sleep?"

"I slept well, but…" she gestured to the child in her arms, "Ben doesn't like his playpen and he doesn't understand that we can't exactly fit his crib onto the airplane."

Emma laughed and took Will's hand, leading him into the kitchen after Kate.

"Ooh, James made coffee," Kate said, as she lowered Ben gently to the floor.

"James is up?" Emma questioned.

"He left for the hospital around 4am. Couldn't sleep either. Will?" she held up the coffee pot up, silently asking if he wanted any.

"Oh, please." Will grabbed another mug from the hook and handed it to her as Ben toddled over in his footy pajamas and latched onto Will's leg, smiling through his pacifier. "Well, good morning to you too," he said as he lifted the two-year-old.

Emma's heart swelled at the sight. Holding Ben in one arm, Will moved about the kitchen, pouring more hot water into Emma's lukewarm tea and ripping a sugar packet open with his teeth. She still didn't know how he managed to do it all one-handed as Ben gently tugged on his head full of curls.

"Ben, don't pull." Kate admonished.

"It's all right," Will smiled. "His grip's not tight."

"Yet. Just be lucky you don't wear earrings."

Will's eyebrows rose. "Trust me, I am."

Emma giggled as she watched her family move about the kitchen in pajamas. It felt like Christmas morning.

"Where's Mom?"

"Shower," Emma replied to Kate's question. She had grown used to Kate calling her mother "Mom," but she felt a sharp pang in her chest as she realized she'd never call Will's mother that. The thought caused her to look at her ring again.

A muffled noise came out of Ben's mouth and Will shot a confused look to Kate. "I have no idea what he just said."

"Ben…" Kate made a motion of removing the pacifier and Ben popped it out, exclaiming, "yuice!"

"Juice," Kate explained. "He hasn't quite gotten his 'j's' yet."

Will nodded understandingly at Ben. "Happens to best of us, Buddy."

Emma just watched with a contented smile on her face as Kate told Will to fill Ben's sippy cup with half apple juice and half water. Ben's hand was fisted in Will's shirt as he moved around the kitchen and Emma couldn't help but think how natural he looked in her childhood home, interacting with her sister-in-law, and holding her nephew.

The phone ran, causing all four people to jump. Kate looked at Emma as the blood drained from her face.

"It can only be James," she whispered.

Emma wiped her sweaty palms on her robe before reaching out a shaky hand for the phone. Will's hand was on her back, a constant reminder that he was beside her and had no plans on going anywhere anytime soon.

Clearing her suddenly tight throat, she hit the green button on the phone. "Hello?"

"Emma, it's Dad. He's awake."

Emma's head snapped to Will's concerned face, unsure of what she just heard.

"What?"

"Dad's awake!" James practically shouted in her ear.

"Is he, is he okay?" Emma cursed the wobble in her voice and Will's grip on her waist tightened.

"He's talking. He wants Mom. Get her here now. Gotta run." The words were out of his mouth so fast, Emma barely had time to let him know that they'd be there as soon as they could.

The relief she felt was overwhelming and the phone fell from her hand, clattering loudly on the floor. Ben jumped in Will's arms at the sound and Will pulled Emma to his chest as she broke down into sobs.

"He's okay… he's awake," she murmured over and over into his t-shirt. She vaguely heard Kate go running up the stairs yelling for her mother, but all Emma could focus on was James' voice in her head and Will's arms around her body. Even Ben reached out a tiny arm and wrapped it around Emma's neck. She pulled away and kissed him on the cheek to ease the look of fright on his face.

"It's okay, Benbo. Pop-pop's okay." Emma offered him a watery smile and Ben flashed her one in return before turning back to his juice cup.

Emma let her head rest against Will's chest again, listening to the rapid beat of his heart. She felt his kisses in her hair and she thanked whatever god had brought him into her life. She could not have done this without him, literally, since he was supporting not just the two-year-old, but also most of her weight.

"Here, Em, have a seat." Will led her over to the table and lowered her into the wooden chair. He crouched down in front of her, resting Ben on his knee and making sure the boy had a tight grip on him so he could reach out with both hands wipe Emma's tears. "He's okay, Em. He's okay."

She needed his reassurance because she was pretty sure the last three minutes had been a dream.

"Will." She reached out for him.

"I'm here." He uttered the same words he had said when he had come skidding into her office. She didn't know what he had been doing before he had come running, all she knew was that he had dropped everything to be at her side.

"I need to get to the hospital."

Will stood again, taking Ben with him, and held out his free hand. "Let's go get ready."

Emma nodded and allowed herself to be led upstairs where Will deposited Ben in Kate's arms as they passed in the hall. Emma took the first shower, not caring that she entered the bedroom in nothing but a towel as Will waited to take his turn. If it weren't for the slight widening of his eyes and the swift way he averted them, she wouldn't have known she had any sort of effect on him at all. It was slightly empowering.

Will's shower was ridiculously fast and he was back in the room, also in nothing but a towel, before Emma had even had time to dress.

"Oh." He pulled up short in the doorway, drops falling from his wet curls. "I can come back."

"Don't be ridiculous. You'll freeze," Emma calmly answered though her heart was practically thudding out of her chest. Two layers of terrycloth – that's all that separated them.

Will cleared his throat and entered the room, standing awkwardly in the center but not daring to look up at her. Emma turned around and pulled underwear on under her towel, her jeans on next. She didn't have the time or the patience to put together her usual outfit.

She snuck a glance up to see Will pulling on boxers under his towel, before letting said towel fall to the floor.

Emma's breath seized in her chest and she turned around in an effort to not hyperventilate. Sure she had seen him shirtless. But never had she seem him both shirtless and pantsless, with nothing on but a pair of navy blue, polka dotted boxer shorts. Emma fanned at her face and she could have sworn she heard him chuckle behind her.

Well, if he could do it, so could she. She let the towel fall to the ground, exposing her bare back to him. The strangled noise that escaped his throat was the only proof that he was paying attention and she grinned. She liked this empowerment.

Clasping the pale pink bra behind her back, she quickly threw on a yellow blouse and turned, slightly disappointed that he had managed to pull on a pair of jeans and a button-down while she wasn't looking. Luckily for her, it wasn't all the way buttoned. She walked up and gently brushed his fingers away before doing up the final three herself.

An image of Will and Charlotte popped into her head and she smiled. "Snug as a bug."

"In a rug," Will quietly finished.

Emma quietly ran a comb through her hair and pulled it back into a ponytail, pinning her bangs out of her face. Styling was not an option. Had she not been so concerned with where her make up was, she would have noticed that Will was rooted to the spot, staring at her.

"Where did it go?" she muttered.

"You don't need it, Em."

"I at least need mascara. Or eyeliner."

He smiled softly. "No you don't."

She finally glanced in the mirror and took notice of the look on his face. "What?"

Will took her hands in his and gently tugged her to him. "This is awful timing, but… before we go into that hospital, I have to know something."

"Okay," she laughed lightly.

Will's finger played with the ring he had placed on her hand the night before, twisting it gently, before sliding it off her hand.

Emma felt the cold metal leave her finger and her eyebrows shot up. "What are you doing?"

"Emma…" Will took a deep breath. "I will always fight for you."

Confusion flooded her face before the words finally came back to her. She gasped and her eyes immediately filled with tears, but he only smiled and continued on.

"I will always run after you."

"Will…" she breathed.

He held a finger to her lips. "And I will always, _always_ love you." And with that, Will lowered himself on one knee and took Emma's hand in his. "Emma… will you marry me?"

She looked down at him, trying to piece together the words that just left his mouth. "Is this, is this for real? This isn't a test-run anymore?" Her heart hammered against her ribcage and she didn't know which answered she feared: that it was or it wasn't.

"It's as real as you want it to be," he whispered. She saw the hope in his eyes, the heartache, the love, and the fear that a future with or without her meant.

She didn't know why her voice remained stuck in her throat. The answer had been ringing in her head ever since he bent his knee. Tears spilled over onto her cheeks as her head nodded and an exuberant "Yes" left her lips.

She would remember the smile that broke out on his face until the day she died, and the way he was on his feet and pulling her to him before she even had a chance to offer her affirmation a second time.

He let out a noise that was half laugh, half sob as he pressed her back against the door and slipped his hands behind her legs to lift her up. A yelp escaped her mouth as he placed hot kisses all over her face: her forehead, her cheek, her nose, her lips, anywhere there was room.

"I love you," tumbled out of her mouth and he pulled away just long enough to whisper the words in return as she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him closer.

"Emma! Daddy's waiting!" Her mother's voice echoed up the stairs and Will abruptly pulled away, gently letting Emma slide down the door to her feet.

_Daddy._ Even the fear of meeting her father couldn't squash the happiness in Will's eyes. She pressed a quick kiss to the tip of his nose and threaded her hand through his, preparing to open the door.

"Wait, wait," he cleared his throat as another tear fell from his eye. She turned to find him sheepishly holding the ring up. "I think we forgot something."

She laughed as he slipped it on her finger once again, this time for real.

"I'm sorry it wasn't in our hallway," he said, kissing her hand.

"I'm not." She wrapped her arms around him and inhaled deeply. "It was perfect."

"I just… needed to ask you."

"I've had the answer waiting," she replied.

"I love you," he repeated.

"I love you, too."

"Emma!" Her mother's voice again pierced the air.

"Coming!" She called. She reached up and quickly wiped her eyes before wiping Will's. "Let's go."

The happiness she felt was practically beaming out of her.

"Our family is waiting."


	13. Interrogations

**Brace yourselves, dear readers. It's a long one… Consider it a present for all of the absolutely amazing things you have said about this series. I write because of you. x**

_Interrogations_

Emma couldn't keep the shake out of her hands as she led Will down the stairs where the expectant faces of her mother and sister-in-law looked up from the foyer.

"Sorry," Emma said as she wiped her eyes.

"Sweetie, Dad's going to be fine," Kate soothed. "Don't cry."

"I know, I know," Emma laughed through a sob. "I'm just happy." Her grip on Will's hand tightened and he squeezed back, a silent acknowledgment that her father was only partially to blame for her tears.

Her childhood bedroom had never really held a special place in her heart. She had hazy visions of tea parties and teddy bears and those vague memories were all she carried with her into adulthood.

But with a bend of his knee, Will changed all of that.

They piled into two cars and sped off toward town. The adrenaline pumping through Emma made the car seem incredibly claustrophobic. Every few seconds, she would glance over at Will as he drove, only to find him staring back. It was a miracle they didn't crash.

Tears pricked her eyes again and she laughed.

"What?" Will gave her an odd look.

"This is ridiculous," she said as she wiped her eyes for the umpteenth time that morning. "Thank goodness I never found the mascara."

Will reached over and took her left hand in his, placing a kiss on her ring.

"I would've gotten you one, you know, had proposing been on my radar. Well, I shouldn't say that." He smiled at her. "It's always been on my radar, I just didn't know it was in my immediate future."

Emma abandoned sneaking glances and stared at him outright. "Proposing was on your radar?"

Will shrugged. "Of course it was. From the moment I took the ring off my finger, I thought of putting one on yours."

Emma remained silent, slightly stunned. Will continued on.

"I guess I'm just trying to say, I would have gotten you a ring."

Emma leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, causing the car to swerve slightly.

"You know," she started, "my grandmother dated my grandfather in high school, but they broke up and she was set to marry another guy. She almost did too, but my grandfather was persistent. He fought for her. And she found her way back to him again."

A soft smile ghosted across Will's face. "Sounds familiar."

"Sounds perfect," Emma replied, gazing at her ring.

The hospital was fairly quiet at the early Sunday hour and Emma had only let go of Will long enough to unbuckle her seatbelt as she got out of the car.

James greeted them at the doors of the ICU and guided his mother towards his father's room. Emma made a move to follow, but Will pulled up short, halting her.

"I don't belong in there, Em."

"Oh, right." Emma had been so focused on getting to her father, she didn't realize she had yet to release Will's hand. "Right, okay."

"I'll be right here when you're done," he said as he placed a kiss on her head. Emma nodded as Kate approached Will.

"Would you mind watching him?" Kate nodded down at Ben, who smiled wide in her arms.

"Love to," Will responded, taking the toddler. Emma smiled at the sight and linked arms with Kate, turning just in time to see Ben grab Will's nose before heading into her father's room. However, what she saw caused her to stop dead in the doorway.

"Daddy." The word was out before she even realized it fell from her lips. The actual sight of him sitting slightly elevated, chatting quietly with her mother, caused her tears to start afresh.

Her father's eyes snapped to hers. "Come here, Ladybug," he whispered.

Choking back a sob, she sat on the side of his bed and buried her head in his chest. Her father gently stroked her hair and whispered "it's okay" and "it'll be all right," phrases that were comforting in his deep, familiar timber.

Emma pulled away and laughed, wiping her eyes and placing a kiss on his cheek. "What did the doctors say?" She moved away so Kate could give Nathan a hug.

"Lots of rest, a new diet," James shot his father a look as Nathan grumbled, but continued on, "exercise and no cigars."

"Now that's just not fair." Nathan attempted to sit up but Adeline pushed him back down.

"Daddy, listen to the doctors. They know more than you do," Emma said, fluffing his pillow.

"So they think." Silence settled into the room as every family member stared at the man in the bed. "Stop being so depressed. What, did ya'll start planning my funeral already? Purchase a coffin you can't return?"

Adeline gently swatted him as laughter broke out. "That's not funny."

"All right, what did I miss?" Nathan again attempted to sit up but Adeline pushed him back down.

"Well…" James looked to Emma and her eyes grew wide. He couldn't possible expect her to break the news to her father that she was engaged while he lay in a hospital bed.

"Go on," Adeline nodded.

Exhaling a large sigh, Emma held up her left hand and the diamond perched on her fourth finger.

"He gave you the ring!" Her mother exclaimed, clapping lightly.

Recognition settled over her father's face and his eyes darkened. "Who is it? The dentist?"

"Um," Emma cleared her throat, "No. It's… it's Will. Schuester," she added as an afterthought.

"Schuester?" Her father's eyebrows shot up. "The teacher?"

Emma recognized the tone in his voice. It was usually the last thing she heard before she was put in a time-out.

"Yes, the teacher," she replied.

"The one you cried over?"

"Nathan," Adeline started.

"No, no." Nathan sat up and this time, no one stopped him. "Let me understand something…"

"Daddy - "

"He hurt you, Emma. He broke your heart." As if she needed reminding.

"Yes, he did! And I broke his! Frankly, we're done hurting each other. I love you, Daddy, but I am marrying him."

Locked in a silent battle of wills with her father was not how she imagined the morning going. The stare-down had the other family members standing awkwardly as they gazed between father and daughter. Nathan Pillsbury was a stubborn man. Strict but caring, his tough love approach kept Emma out of trouble, not that there was much for her to get into. He had loosened up in his older age, but not when it came to Emma's love life. On more than one occasion, his voice rang out in the background as she cried to her mother over the phone, "Is it that Will again?" Again, she made a mental note to stop oversharing. Her father finally broke his calculating gaze and shifted in the bed.

"Well, I'm not happy about it."

"Well, I'm not asking."

And with that, Emma stormed out of the room, rounding the corner so quickly, she almost tripped over Will, who sat cross-legged on the floor playing peek-a-boo with Ben.

"Whoa there," Will said, reaching up and steadying her. "What's wrong? Is it your Dad?" Will stood up and guided her to a chair, before picking Ben up from where he pouted on the floor at their interrupted game.

"He's fine," Emma spat. "Just infuriating."

Will crouched down in front of her and, without asking for further explanation, gathered her in his arms. Emma's anger melted away as she leaned into his embrace, resting her face in the crook of his neck and breathing in his aftershave.

Emma felt a tug on her shirt and she pulled away to see Ben gazing up at her with a frown on his face. She took his face and placed two kisses on his chubby cheeks, earning a smile in return.

"I'm guessing your father knows we're engaged?" Will whispered.

Emma nodded. "Yes, yes he does."

Will didn't bother asking the next logical question, but Emma could see the pain in his eyes. She was reminded of the conversation she had with her mother that morning, the conversation that Will overheard. He had apologized again, but it was an apology that Emma didn't need. She just wished her family would stop demanding it of him.

"Emma?"

Emma let go of Will at the sound of her mother's voice.

"Emma, your father would like to see both of you."

"Absolutely not."

Adeline held up her hands, "Let me finish. But I told him to get some rest first and you'd be back later."

"No. Not if he talks to Will like he talked to me earlier."

"Emma," Will's hand was warm on her back. "If your father wants to see me, I'm going to see him."

Emma set her mouth in a firm line, but Will was rubbing circles on her back and eventually her resolve weakened.

"Fine."

Adeline's shoulders slumped, as if she had braced herself to put up more of a fight, and she exhaled. "Thank you." She smiled at Will. "Looks like you made a friend."

Both Will and Emma glanced down where Ben was holding tight to Will's jeans, his face pressed into Will's knee at the sudden attention.

"He's my new buddy," Will grinned, ruffling Ben's hair.

"You're very good with him," Adeline gushed. "You'll make a wonderful father one day."

"Mama." Emma's voice was sharp as pain glazed over Will's eyes. No matter how many times he told her that Terri's deception was in the past, she knew it wasn't. It never would be. No one can be hurt that deeply and not have a scar.

Emma told her mother everything, so of course she knew of Will's heartbreak. Her face paled and her hands flew to her cheeks. "Oh, goodness. Oh, Will, please forgive me."

Will shook his head, "It's okay. Really."

As her mother geared up for a litany of apologies, Emma interrupted. "Yes, he will. One day he will make a fantastic father." Her eyes met his stunned gaze and she took his hand. "I'll make sure of that."

She had just all but guaranteed to have Will Schuester's baby, and the thought did not terrify her as much as she thought it would. In fact, it filled her with a warm, fuzzy feeling that made her stomach do little somersaults.

The look of shock on his face gradually gave way to pure joy and he placed a kiss on her cheek, whispering "I love you" in her ear.

Adeline wrapped them both in a hug and shooed them off to where Kate and James waited with instructions to go home and rest for a few hours.

Not needing to be told twice, Emma took Will's hand and practically dragged him down the hall, stopping just long enough for Will to scoop Ben up, before passing her brother and sister-in-law without a word. The ride home was tense, but Will seemed unaffected. He continued his game of peek-a-boo with an ease Emma envied. She had gotten much better around children, but if she was actually going to have any, she had a long way to go. She absentmindedly ran a hand over her flat stomach, briefly wondering what maternity clothes, if any, would match the color palates in her closet. She shook her head. Weddings first. Babies second. One step at a time.

James finally pulled into the driveway and Emma opened the door before the car was even in 'park.' She could hear Will jogging up after her and she allowed him to gently rub her neck as she closed the front door behind him.

"I need a nap," she murmured. "Keep me company?"

"Always," he whispered.

She led the way up the stairs and pushed their bedroom door open. It had been the longest morning of her life and she wanted nothing more than to close the curtains and wake up to another day. Unfortunately, she didn't have the power of time travel so she settled for hibernation. Toeing off her shoes, she took off her blouse, not wanting to wrinkle it, and slid Will's t-shirt over her head without a second thought. She didn't even dwell on the fact that she had just changed in front of him. Had she been conscious of it, she would have noticed the way his breath hitched at the first peek of pink lace.

"You look good in my clothes," he offered.

"You look good in your clothes, too," she countered.

He smiled as he unbuttoned his shirt, stripping down to the white tee beneath. She crawled onto the bed and held her hand out, beckoning him. He laid down next to her and gathered her in his arms.

"Can we go back to your house?" she asked. "I liked it better there."

"I'll go wherever you lead," he whispered.

Within minutes, she was asleep, the ghost of a smile on her face.

Three hours later, she woke to a knock on the door and she peeked one eye open before calling out, "Come in."

Kate poked her head in and whispered when she saw Will's still slumbering form. "Mom's on the phone. She wants you to come to the hospital."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Tell her I'll be there in a bit.

"She wants you to bring Will, too."

"Of course she does," Emma muttered. Kate disappeared from the doorway and Emma buried her head in Will's chest, promptly falling back asleep.

Her wake up call the second time around was much pleasanter. Will's hand lazily stroked her arm and she blinked her eyes open to find him smiling down at her.

"Morning, Sunshine."

"What time is it?"

"2:00. Your mother has apparently called four more times, but I told them to let you sleep."

"That's why I love you."

"I thought it was my boyish charm," he grinned and went in for a kiss only to be met with the palm of her hand. "Kidding."

She forced herself out of bed and changed out of Will's t-shirt.

"Smell's like you," he murmured when she tossed it at him.

After freshening up, she made her way downstairs and greeted James and Kate in the living room.

"Mom's called four times."

"So I've heard," Emma replied.

James offered to drive them, leaving Kate to watch a napping Ben. Will grabbed a bite to eat before they left, but Emma had lost her appetite. She watched as James and Will dug into peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and was pleased to note that James' frostiness toward her fiancé seemed to have thawed. _Fiance_. She _still _couldn't get used to the word.

As the plates were put in the dishwasher, she sighed heavily and stood up. "All right, let's get this over with."

The tension mounted with every mile that brought them closer to the hospital. Will was sitting in the front seat with James and she wanted nothing more than to take his hand. She didn't know if she was more worried for herself or Will. Deciding it was a tie, she tried to calm her rapid heartbeat as they pulled into the parking lot.

The stupid red line that led them from the front desk to the ICU was making her nauseated and before she knew it, she was standing in front of her father's door, Will clutching her hand. He gave her a reassuring smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. She realized then that it was more for her sake than his.

With a knock, Emma pushed the door open and her mother and father looked up from the other side of the room. With a gentle tug, she pulled Will into the doorway with her. Adeline stood and gave her daughter a quick peck on the cheek before nudging her closer to the bed.

Emma cleared her throat, dismayed to see that her mother was leaving. She glanced back at her father and took a step forward.

"Daddy, I'd like you to meet someone."

Nathan's gaze narrowed and he honed in on where Emma's hand was joined with Will's. Ignoring her father's surly look, she took another step forward, pulling Will with her.

"This is Will Schuester. My fiancé."

"Sir," Will reached his hand out, but Nathan just looked at it. After a couple of seconds, Will let his arm fall back to his side.

"Daddy…"

"Emma, please tell me where I went wrong."

She frowned. "Excuse me?"

"I thought I taught you better than that, to respect yourself more than that!"

"I do respect myself!"

"Well, he doesn't!" Her father pointed at Will. "This man -"

"Will," she interrupted. "His name is Will."

Nathan glared again, "_Will_ has broken your heart. He has hurt you -"

"Daddy, that's unfair -" Emma felt tears pricking her eyes.

"You told us so yourself! And not all that long ago!"

"You're sick," Emma tried to reason. "You're not yourself."

"I'm myself enough to not let my baby girl marry a mistake."

"Daddy!"

"I should go," Will muttered, heading for the door.

"Will, don't you dare move." Emma's sharp command kept him rooted in place and she whipped her glare back towards her father. Her entire body shook with anger and she worked hard to keep the tremor from her voice. "I'm in love with him, Daddy. I've always been in love with him. Even when I was with Carl, it was always Will." A tear fell on her cheek and her father's face softened for the tiniest moment. He always did hate seeing her cry. But Emma swallowed her tears and continued on. "Loving me means loving him, because he is part of me. And that is something that you're just going to have to get used to, because Will is going to be a part of this family whether you like it or not."

Her father's calculating glare bore holes into her. "Oh really?"

"Sir," Will stepped forward, "I love your daughter. I love her so much it hurts. And when I lost her…" he trailed off and looked down, swallowing hard. When he spoke again, his voice cracked with emotion. "You are clearly no stranger to my past and you have to know, when my ex-wife did what she did…" Will cleared his throat as Nathan looked down, not entirely immune to the pain Will had lived through, "I wasn't sure I would survive. There was just this gaping hole… right here," he pressed his hand to his chest, over his heart, "but that was nothing compared to what I felt when I lost your daughter." His gaze flicked over to Emma briefly at her sharp intake of breath, before he continued on. "I am sorry that I have caused her pain in the past. I am more sorry than you will ever, ever know, but I refuse to apologize for the way I feel about her."

Will finally looked at Emma who, feeling like there was nothing left to say, promptly took his hand and led him out of the room. As soon as they reached the bright lights of the hallway, they were met by the wide-eyed stares of Adeline and James Pillsbury.

The breath Emma had been holding came out in a _whoosh_ as Will brought up a shaking hand and ran it down his face. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. Adeline walked forward and wrapped her arms around him.

"Like Emma said, he's not himself." Adeline wiped her eyes. "He'll come around. He will," she nodded, as if the reassurance was more for her sake than Will's. "I'm so sorry."

Will gave her a half smile and pulled Emma to him, burying his nose in her hair.

"Mama…" Emma trailed off helplessly.

"You said the right things, baby girl. You both did. Your father needed to hear that."

"Well done, Em," James congratulated. "I didn't know you had it in you. I thought you were going to give him another heart attack."

Adeline swatted his arm. "Don't you dare say such a thing."

James ignored his mother and clapped a hand on Will's shoulder. "Anyone who bests my father in a verbal shellacking deserves a drink. Let's go."

Without waiting for an answer, James led Will down the hallway, giving him just enough time to throw a confused wave over his shoulder to Emma.

"Be careful!" Emma's voice was unusually high. "James? Do you hear me?"

"Yes, Mom," he retorted.

"Hey." Adeline replied in mock offense.

And just like that, the doors closed behind them, blocking them from view.

"That won't end well." Emma bit her lip.

"Relax," Adeline rubbed her hand soothingly up and down Emma's back. "Let them have fun. Will deserves a proper welcome into the family after his rough receiving line."

Emma turned to her mother. "You _do _like him, don't you?"

"Of course I do, sweetheart." Adeline brushed Emma's hair away from her face. "I've never seen your eyes light up like they do when he looks at you."

Emma blushed and wrapped her arms around her mother.

"And look at you," her mother continued, wiping more tears from her eyes, "You haven't let me hug you this much since you were eight years old."

Emma let out a noise that was half laugh and half sob, knowing her mother was right. It had taken her 22 years to realize how much she missed her mother's touch, so she held on tighter.

Two hours later, Emma paced the kitchen, glancing out the window every few minutes in the hope that she would see headlights coming up the drive.

Her mother had dropped her off and returned to the hospital with the promise that she would talk some sense into her husband. Emma wasn't holding her breath.

Kate tried to distract her with wedding websites, and the tactic worked for the better part of an hour before Emma was back to pacing the foyer.

Finally, at 6:23, her brother's blue rental sedan pulled up outside of the house and laughter rang out in the silent air as the car doors opened.

Kate glanced at Emma. "Oh boy."

Emma squinted out the window and was able to make out her brother and Will stumbling up the walkway. Before they even reached the door, Kate had yanked it open and placed her hands firmly on her hips.

"James Pillsbury, do not tell me you just drove home drunk."

"No, ma'am," he replied with a hint of fear in his eyes. "I was the DD. This gentleman, on the other hand…" he pointed to Will who snorted and doubled over in laughter, "… may or may not be intoxicated."

Emma joined Kate at the door and sighed at the sight. "James, what did you do to my fiancé?"

"Just welcomed him into the family."

Emma descended the two steps and gently took Will's chin in her hand. "Will, how drunk are you?"

"Un poco," he replied, squeezing his fingers together and squinting.

"On a scale from a happy-buzz to a dancing-on-tables shitshow," James diagnosed, "I say he's about a fall-off-your-barstool. It's a pretty good estimation considering he actually did, you know, fall off his barstool."

Emma shook her head, but couldn't help a chuckle. Will looked at her with dazed eyes and smiled broadly.

"Hello, my future wife."

Emma hated to admit it, but his grin was infectious. "What am I gonna do with you?"

"Marry me."

Emma laughed. "If I must. All right, let's get you inside, you lush."

James shifted Will as he brought him in the house. "Where do you want him?"

"He's not a piece of furniture," Kate replied.

"Upstairs. Straight upstairs." Emma watched with trepidation as her brother maneuvered her fiancé up the wooden steps. They tripped twice but eventually made it to the bedroom where James dropped his future brother-in-law onto the bed.

He turned to Emma in the doorway and kissed her on the cheek. "Good job, Ems. I like him. He's good people."

"Oh so he passed the test?"

"With flying colors," James grinned before leaving.

Emma remained in the doorway and giggled as Will attempted to sit up. For a man who had as defined abs as he did, it shouldn't have taken him three tries.

"Em?"

"Right here, honey," she said, moving forward and crouching down in front of him.

"I missed you."

Even those three simple words made her heart skip a beat. "I missed you, too."

"Bruno says hi."

"Bruno…?" It took her a minute, but the hazy image of a burly man serving her what he claimed was iced tea popped into her head. "Oh. _Bruno_."

"Yeah, he was sad you didn't come."

"I bet," she said as she untied his shoes and pulled them off his feet, before going to work on his coat. "So what was the drink of choice?"

"Tequila."

Emma's face screwed up in disgust. She would never understand the attraction of tequila. Then again, she never really understood the attraction of any liquor before she got all up close and personal with an iced tea recipe from Long Island.

Will ran a hand across his face and Emma was surprised by how child-like he looked in his vulnerable state.

"It's only 6:30," she said as she pulled off his shirt. "Sleep it off for a couple of hours."

"Mkay," he replied.

Emma gently pushed on his chest and he fell back against the bed. Biting her lip, she reach out for his jeans before quickly withdrawing her hands. After a silent pep-talk, Emma reached out again and hastily undid the button.

"Are you trying to seduce me, Mrs. Robinson?"

Her face flushed but she snorted with laughter. "When I'm trying to seduce you, you'll know."

"Darn." Will lifted his butt as Emma pulled the jeans down.

"Scoot up," she instructed, patting him on the knee. He did as he was told and within minutes of his head hitting the pillow, he was passed out.

Emma looked at his peaceful face and sighed. The love she felt for him made her chest ache and she placed a lingering kiss on his lips before turning the light out and leaving her drunkard to rest.

James spent the next two hours regaling Kate and Emma with the more amusing moments of the evening, including but not limited to a rambunctious game of pool, a joke not to be repeated in female company, and an aptly titled drink called a "1-2-3 Knockout."

Emma spent more time laughing that evening than she had in months. It eased away the emotional bruises leftover from the afternoon and she was able to enjoy the company of her family in her childhood home. James and Kate eventually retired to bed and at 10:30, Will came padding down the stairs.

"How are you feeling?" Emma greeted him at the bottom.

"Thirsty," he said through a yawn.

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Just thirsty? You're not hungover?"

Will shrugged. "Not really. Though my limbs haven't quite figured out how to work yet. I attempted to get out of bed and fell right to the floor."

"So that's what that thud was."

Will grinned sheepishly. "Guilty."

"You're really not hungover at all?"

"Nope."

Emma let out a disgusted noise. "That's so not fair." She retreated into the kitchen and filled up a glass of water for him.

"I was, however, very lonely in that big bed all by myself."

Emma rolled her eyes. "You were passed out. You didn't even realize I was gone."

"Sure I did," he said, before gulping the water down. "Come to bed."

Will didn't have to ask twice. Emma switched off all of the lights and followed him upstairs, still annoyed that he wasn't the tiniest bit nauseated.

She let Will have the bathroom first, letting him brush the "fuzzy feeling" from his mouth that the tequila had left behind. He was back within minutes and she noticed the odd look he gave her when she brought her clothes into the bathroom with her. After all, she had made a point to get undressed in front of him just that very morning.

Her heart pounded as she brushed her teeth and washed her face, before stripping off her bra, shirt and jeans and sliding the bathrobe on. She entered the room to find Will sitting on the bed in a t-shirt and boxers, smiling up at her.

She waited until he turned away to pull the covers down before letting the robe fall to the floor, leaving her in just her black lace underwear. When he turned back around, he froze, his hand hovering halfway to the clock on the bedside table.

"You forgot your clothes," he said dumbly, his voice hoarse.

"Yeah… about that…" She trailed off and smiled nervously, taking a step forward and tugging at the hem of his shirt. He raised his arms, allowing the material to be removed and tossed to the side. She reached out for him, the adrenaline making her hand shake. Will gently touched his fingertips to hers and it was as if a current of electricity shot up her arm.

"You're staring," she whispered.

"You're stunning," he countered, swallowing hard.

She placed his hand flat against her stomach and she realized that hers wasn't the only hand shaking.

"You know I'm a virgin, Will."

His eyes snapped to hers and he nodded.

"You're going to be my first. My only, actually… and I'm so happy about that. I'm so happy it's going to be you."

She was surprised to find her throat getting tight and the tears in Will's eyes were not helping matters.

"I need to take it slowly, though."

Will nodded again as she held his hand tighter to her abdomen.

"Baby steps," she reiterated.

"Baby steps," he whispered as she began to move his hand up her body. To his credit, his eyes remained trained on hers, communicating silently all the trust and love that he couldn't voice.

She settled his hand on her bare chest and let go to cup his face. He leaned into her touch and gently squeezed her breast, causing her breath to catch.

"Emma," he groaned as she leaned down and kissed him. She surprised even herself by crawling into his lap and wrapping her limbs around him. His arms were warm against her back and she pressed the back of his head into the crook of her neck, quite aware of her effect on him. She blushed but held on tighter, bare chest to bare chest.

It was the most intimate moment of her life, up until that point, holding the man she loved, letting him see her, touch her, reveling in their love for each other. When he finally spoke, his voice was strained.

"I love you, but seriously, if you plan on sleeping like this, I might have to take the couch."

She giggled and placed a kiss on his shoulder. "I guess I'll cover up then, because I'm getting kind of attached to sleeping with you. I don't know what I'm going to do when we go home to our separate beds."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," he smiled. She shifted in his lap and he groaned again.

She grinned. "Sorry."

"Don't be," he chuckled. "But really, please put on a shirt."

She let out a hearty laugh and released her hold on him, sliding off his lap and picking up his discarded shirt.

"May I?"

"You may." He remained seated on the bed and at her questioning glance, responded, "Just give me a minute."

She blushed again as butterflies erupted in her stomach. She was feeling bold and she had a strong desire to skip the next few steps and get right to the good stuff, but her rational mind reasoned with her newly acquired sex drive.

Eventually, Will joined her under the covers, pulling her tight to him, as had become habit.

"Thank you," he murmured into her shoulder.

"For what?"

"Trusting me."

She turned around in his arms and placed a kiss to his nose. "I'll always trust you."

They fell asleep like that, nose to nose, legs tangled, and woke the next morning to the sounds of a crying two-year-old because Will never quiet got around to setting that alarm.

Emma blushed at the thought. Oversleeping had been well worth the look on his face.

Over breakfast, James informed them they had another summons from the hospital and after some coaxing from her mother and some reassurances from Will, she allowed herself to be put in a car and driven to town, though she grumbled the whole way.

"Just Will first, sweetheart," her mother had said as she made a move to open her father's door.

Her eyes widened but Will placed a kiss on her head and touched his lips to her ear, whispering "It's okay, baby."

She was dizzy from the heat of his breath and by the time she wrapped her head around the "baby" comment, he had disappeared into the room.

She leaned against the wall just outside the door and listened in, making sure her father behaved himself. She hated sending Will in all alone, but she knew that he could handle it. After an apology that practically had to wrestle its way out of her father's mouth, conversation turned to typical father/fiancé fare.

Though her father grilled Will on his work, his goals, and his background, Will politely answered in detail. Her heart swelled as he described his love of teaching and his goals for their life together. The two men shared a laugh and tears fell from Emma's eyes.

From the moment Will came into her life as more than just an unattainable dream, Emma feared the impossibly high bar her family had set.

But, in typical Will fashion, he cleared it.


	14. Confrontations

**Apologies to everyone. Please blame familial dysfunction and weather-related disasters for the delay. Assuming my relatives don't follow me to New York and assuming another blizzard doesn't completely wipe out the eastern seaboard, the wait for the next chapter will not be nearly as long. As always, I write for you. **

_Confrontations_

"But… are you sure?" Emma blinked between her mother and her father as Will's thumb rubbed circles on her shoulder.

"Positive," her mother answered.

"You've already missed too much work for me," her father reasoned from the bed. "The doctors are letting me go home the day after tomorrow. Really, Ladybug, it's okay."

Emma bit her lip and glanced at her parents' optimistic faces. "But, Daddy - "

Her father held up his hand and halted her argument. "Who's offering those poor kids guidance while you're down here fretting over me?"

Emma shrugged and grumbled inaudibly, knowing full well her parents were right. She heard Will's chuckle behind her.

"Fine. But if something happens, you call me."

"Immediately," her mother said, reaching over and brushing a wayward curl off her daughter's forehead.

Emma stood from the edge of the bed, Will's hand never leaving her back. After a gentle shove from her mother and a guarantee from her father to cut back on the bacon, Emma made her way to the door, already concerned about finding a flight home.

"Will?"

His hand left her back as he turned around to face her father.

"Sir?"

"Thank you for, uh, for bringing my little girl down here." Nathan gave Will a tight smile and nodded his head.

"My pleasure, Sir," Will replied. Emma reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze, giving her father a smile at his attempt at civility.

"See?" Emma started when she and Will entered the hallway, "he likes you."

Will laughed. "Like' is a strong word. He tolerates me, is more like it." His arm looped around Emma's shoulders as he led them down the hall.

"Think we'll get a flight out today?"

Will smiled encouragingly. "It's a Monday and a non-holiday. I don't see why not."

Emma nodded but remained silent. Something was gnawing at her, causing her heartbeat to quicken and her stomach to tighten. Again, they had built up this protective bubble, one which they had entered as single but complicated people, and exited an engaged couple. Though she was happier than she had ever been in her life, she still worried about the pace of things. They had promised each other that they would take things slowly, but… here they were: she with a ring on her finger and he with a perpetual goofy grin. She had to admit, she did like it. Both the ring and the grin.

It didn't take them long to book a flight. It left at 5:35 that evening and would have them back in Lima early enough for a late dinner. They spent the remainder of the afternoon packing and playing. Emma did most of the packing, though, and Will most of the playing. Both had to take a break when a game of hide and seek led to a frantic search party for Ben who had hidden just a little too well in a back hall closet.

"Got him!" Will had called, causing Emma and Kate to halt their search and go bolting toward his voice. Emma turned the corner and slammed on the brakes causing Kate to run into her as they saw Will sitting on the floor with Ben, both laughing as Will attempted to untangle the yards of tinsel and ribbon that Ben had gotten caught up in.

"Looks like someone found the Christmas box," Kate said.

Ben giggled as Will removed a large bow from the top of his head. The scene was nearly too perfect. Emma wished she had a camera but she knew it was an image she wouldn't be forgetting anytime soon.

Will stood up and handed Ben to Kate before kissing Emma on the head. "Almost ready to go?"

She swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Whoa there," he said, rubbing her back. "You all right?" She nodded against his chest. "All right, I gotcha," he whispered as he gently rocked her back and forth. "You sure you're okay?"

"Perfect," she muttered against his chest.

He sighed deeply and she rose and fell with him. "Let's go home."

_Home. _The word sounded wonderful to her ears.

"Yeah," she replied. "Let's go."

Emma allowed Will to help with the rest of the packing, meaning she let him hand her items which she then placed accordingly in their appropriate place. He was patient in his participation, smiling warmly whenever she caught his eye. He seemed content just to be in her presence and only Emma's constant reminders that they were under a deadline kept her from tackling him and kissing that grin right off his face.

With a tearful goodbye from Ben and a hug for James and Kate, Will and Emma got in the car to pay a final farewell to her parents.

The meeting was not nearly as intense as the first. Her mother wrapped Will in an embrace and her father even shook Will's hand before insisting they join the Pillsburys in Virginia for July 4th.

Following the bright red line one final time from the ICU to the sunshine waiting on the other side of the clear glass doors, Emma pulled up short where the blue and green lines converged.

"What's the matter?" Will glanced at her quizzically.

"What do we do?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

Emma's heart pounded against her chest. "When we go home." She twisted the ring around her finger. "What do we do?"

Will smiled knowingly and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "We do what we've always done. I get up and drink my coffee." He placed a kiss on her forehead. "You get up and scrub the kitchen floor." He placed a kiss on her nose. "I take a five minute shower. You take a 35 minute shower. See?" He placed a kiss on her lips. "We're a perfect pair."

_Don't cry. Don't cry. _Emma bit her lip and inhaled his familiar scent. He always knew what to say, which was probably why his students went to him for guidance before coming to her.

"The morning routines might be cut and dry, but what about the kids? What about the teachers? What about your father?"

He threaded his fingers through hers and tugged her down the hallway. "First of all, the kids will be thrilled, my father will be ecstatic, and the teachers can go screw themselves. But who says the morning routine is so cut and dry? When you spend the night, do you really think I'm going to let you scrub my kitchen at 6am when I could be holding you hostage in bed? When I spend the night, are you going to let me buy you a coffee pot so I can get my caffeine fix while you're pruning in the shower?"

The more he spoke, the wider her eyes got and by the time he actually looked up into her face, he burst out laughing at how shell-shocked she looked.

"Breathe, Em. We're engaged. I know how some of your relationships have been in the past, but at some point, we will be living together. Do you think I'm going to actually let you go?"

"I love you," she whispered as a tear fell down her cheek.

He reached up and wiped the wayward tear with the pad of his thumb. "I love you too."

The same incompetent woman was working behind the desk at the rental car company so, at Will's suggestion, Emma waited outside while he handled the return. Will came back out to find Emma staring at the terminal in trepidation.

"Do I have to get you drunk again?"

A smile broke out across Emma's face. "Maybe."

The flight was painless and Emma passed the time reading the in flight magazine since she had already memorized the safety brochure. Will idly rubbed his thumb across her palm as he read a book he purchased in the airport. Emma could see them spending many an evening like that, in peaceful, comforting silence. It occurred to her then that he was the only person she was able to do that with: to sit in complete silence and not feel the itch to say or clean something. He was her calm center, her eye in the storm.

The rumble of the landing gear descending startled Emma and she leaned over Will to glance out the window.

"Ten minutes, the captain said," Will whispered in her ear.

"He did?"

Will cocked an eyebrow at her. "Someone spaced out."

She blushed. "Just thinking."

The flight attendant did one final pass to ensure everyone's seatbelts and tray tables were upright and Emma held her breath.

"I hate this part."

"I hate take-off," Will replied.

Emma sat forward to get a good look at his face. "You didn't tell me that."

"Well, I was trying to be the supportive boyfriend." He grinned.

She placed a kiss on his cheek. "Always putting others before yourself."

When he leaned in close and whispered, "I spy with my little eye… something green" in her ear, she thought he was crazy. But when the plane landed without her notice, his level of wonderfulness grew even more than she thought possible.

_Home. _The word sounded so much better when Will factored into the equation. Lima's lights looked brighter, its sleet more magical, its trees more graceful.

Will pulled up in front of Emma's apartment and put the car into park.

"Your chariot has arrived, milady."

She gave him a tight smile and looked forlornly at the dark windows of her condo.

"Em?"

"Stay with me."

"What?" Will's elbow slipped off its perch on the wheel and accidentally hit the horn. Both of the car's occupants jumped before breaking out into laughter.

"You – you want me to stay with you?"

Emma shrugged. "Well, you kind of have to. Your car's still in McKinley's parking lot. But," she started as she placed a hand on his cheek, "as I said before, I've gotten used to sleeping with you. You're like my security blanket."

The smile that lit up his face was breathtaking and Emma had to look down for a moment so he wouldn't think she had completely lost her mind by staring numbly at him.

"I'll always stay with you," Will replied. It was a simple enough response but a promise lurked beneath the surface.

Will pulled the bag out of the backseat and she led him into her apartment. It occurred to her that he hadn't really been there before. He had only seen the foyer during those few times when he picked her up or dropped her for school functions and a feeling of uncertainty took hold. Emma was always self-conscious when showing someone her home, which was why she rarely did. The shoe rack next to the door made people uneasy and by the time they viewed the pristine living room where every picture frame was exactly six inches apart, they had made up some excuse and slipped out the door. Only Carl spent any real amount of time with her there, in her own space. Emma had made Will go home and pack for their trip to Virginia while she put together her belongings. She told him it was in an effort to save time, but she knew she was just scared of breaking the careful boundaries she had set.

As if he sensed her unease, Will placed a hand on her back as they made their way to the front door. With a deep breath and a turn of the key, the front door swung back, welcoming Will into her life.

She slipped off her shoes and placed them in the rack. Will did the same without comment and followed her into the living room.

"I'll take that," she said, removing the bag from his hand and disappearing into the bedroom. "I was going to do a wash," she called over her shoulder. "Do you want me to throw your clothes in as well so you have something clean to wear tomorrow?"

Her voice carried down the hall, but she didn't have to be so loud. A glance at the doorway told her Will had followed her.

"That would be great actually." He cleared his throat. "If you don't mind."

Her smile beamed. "Not at all." She opened the bag and began removing the items, blushing a bit when her favorite navy blue, polka dotted boxers made an appearance. "I also have to run to the store. I have no food in the house."

"Why don't you let me go?" 

"No!"

Will's eyes widened at her outburst and she backtracked.

"I mean, no. It's really okay. I, I like food shopping and I have a lot to get."

"You sure?"

"Positive," she said, hoping that he didn't think she was as crazy as she sounded in her head.

Will leaned against the doorway and took in her bedroom. She felt stripped naked, but if this relationship was going to work where her others' failed, she needed to let him in. He took a cautious step forward and examined the sage green bedspread and the off-white rug. A strip of photos taken in a booth at one of McKinley's homecoming carnivals caught his attention and he laughed, removing it from its perch on the mirror.

"I remember when I pulled you into this thing."

"It was horrifying." Emma shivered at the memory.

He held up the strip. "You seemed to be enjoying yourself."

"Well… I was with you."

"But Em, this was almost three years ago."

She bit her lip, fully aware that she was about to let him in on the secret that she had been in love with him since her first day on the job.

"Like I said… I was with you."

He stared at her, his brow creased in confusion before realization set in. Emma tried to trace the emotions that flashed across his face, but they flickered by like frames in a film. Hurt at having made her wait so long, anger at not being attune to it sooner, love that he finally had her. This was pure speculation on Emma's part, of course, but she liked to think she had him pegged.

He set the photo strip back in the mirror almost reverently and continued his exploration, always making sure to respect her privacy. His curiosity was honest and never dug below the surface. He admired the painting above her bed and the marveled at the organization of her closet. Finally, when he had made a complete round, he turned to her and sighed.

"Is there _anything_ I can do?"

"You can relax. You've done so much for me. It's Monday night, right? Isn't there football on? I think it's called Monday Night Football, but I could be wrong," she rambled. "There might even be some beer in the pantry left over from Car - " She broke off mid-sentence and her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, Will, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have - "

"Em." He held up his hand. "You can say his name. I won't break."

She nodded and glanced down at the clothes in front of her separated by color and cotton-percentage.

"But beer and football?" He continued, diffusing the tension and putting her at ease. "You certainly know the way to a man's heart."

"At least a man from Ohio," she retorted.

"Touche."

"Go help yourself to anything in the kitchen while I throw the clothes in the wash."

Will finally surrendered and disappeared down the hall as Emma threw a perfectly measured dose of detergent on the clothes, slipped on her shoes and headed out to the grocery store.

The trip was faster than her normal excursions, but the thought of Will waiting for her at home had her practically careening down the aisles like a four-year-old who slipped away from Mom.

She pulled up in front of her apartment and her stomach did a little flip at seeing the TV casting shadows in the windows. She gathered her bags and closed the door with her hip, wondering how she was ever going to get the front door open without a spare hand.

Will solved that problem for her, though, as the door swung open right as she reached it.

"What, were you watching out the window?" She laughed.

"Sorry," he said, scuffing his toe sheepishly into the welcome mat. "I got lonely."

"So did I." She blew the hair out of her face and placed the bags on the counter. "Next time you're definitely coming," she said as she placed the cold items in the refrigerator. "Oh, I got you something."

"I hope it's not more beer. You've got a whole brewery in there," he joked, pointing to the cabinet.

She gave him a coy smile and placed the final bag on the counter, pulling out a coffee maker with a bright red bow on top. "Consider it your first housewarming gift."

The look of awe on Will's face caused her to giggle and he walked forward, gently brushing the red bow.

"Is it – is it the right one?" She asked, suddenly nervous.

"It's perfect," he replied. "Absolutely perfect. Thank you."

He pulled her into a passionate kiss and she vowed then and there to buy him household appliances more often.

"It's just a coffee maker," she laughed when she pulled away for air.

"No one's ever gotten me a gift 'just because."

Her throat got tight and she swallowed hard at the look of pure love and gratitude on his face. "Well… " She started, attempting to control her voice, "now you can make coffee, 'just because.' But don't expect me to make it for you. I have no idea how."

He laughed and pressed another kiss to her lips. "Will you at least let me help move the laundry from the washer to the dryer."

She sighed dramatically. "Fine. But don't touch any buttons."

"Yes, ma'am."

That night, Emma learned what it meant to truly work as a team. Will made spaghetti as Emma tossed a salad, he washed as she dried, and she brushed her teeth as he gurgled mouthwash.

They changed in front of each other, their awkwardness gone. In fact, the growing feeling in the pit of her stomach made Emma want to push Will up against the wall, but she controlled some of her more animalistic urges until they had at least been home more than four hours and engaged more than 34.

Without comment or question, they fell into their respective places: Will on the left, Emma on the right, curled into his side like pieces of a puzzle.

The alarm blared at 6:30, a full hour after her normal wake-up time and she reached over to find herself alone in the bed.

"Will?" She padded into the kitchen, following the smell of hazelnut coffee, to find what she was searching for sitting at the kitchen table, reading the morning paper.

"Morning," she croaked, her voice hoarse.

He glanced up, hair askew, and Emma knew that that was a face she wouldn't mind waking up to everyday.

"Morning," he replied. "I made some tea for you, but I held off on breakfast. I didn't want to mess up your routine."

The gesture of _not_ making breakfast was almost as grand as the gesture of rolling out a continental buffet.

"Thank you. I appreciate it," she said, sitting in his lap and burying her face in his neck. His scruff scratched her cheek and she placed a kiss on his pulse point before asking about the day's headlines.

She spent only 25 minutes in the shower, letting Will have the bathroom for ten, before she joined him again to put on makeup as he shaved. She found herself watching him more than the mirror, the eyeliner resting forgotten in her fingers.

"Earth to Em," he said, careful not to knick his skin with the blade. She jumped and continued to apply her makeup, Will's chuckle making her cheeks flush.

They had decided that waltzing into the halls with hands held high announcing their betrothal was probably not the best way to go about things, so even though they shared a car, they parked at the end of the lot and entered through two separate doors, with an agreement to see each other at lunch.

But nothing misses the eyes of gossipy teenagers and by second period, word had spread like fire that Miss Pillsbury was wearing a rather large rock on a very significant finger, causing students to whisper in the halls and teachers to crane their necks in the lounge.

After third period, Figgins called Emma into his office and ran through the typical questions asked when a teacher or student returns from a family emergency. She knew them well, after all, she wrote them.

The looks, the whispers, even the questions were routine, but when Emma returned to her office, she found something she was not expecting: 12 very familiar, very expectant looking students crowding the tiny room.

"Miss Pillsbury? We'd like a word."


	15. Announcements

_Announcements_

The walls seemed to close in on her as teenagers occupied every corner of her office. Emma waded her way through the crowd, averting her eyes from their calculating glances and hiding her ring in the palm of her fist.

"What, uh, what can I do for you guys?" Emma said, finally settling behind her desk.

Rachel stepped forward and crossed her arms over her chest. Emma steeled herself against the stubborn force that hid within the petite brunette. She was like firecracker in a world that perpetually celebrated the Fourth of July.

"Miss Pillsbury, though we are very happy that your father is okay, there's a rumor going around that we have to address." Rachel's eyes flicked to Emma's left hand, which was safely hidden behind her back.

"Miss P," Finn stepped forward and placed a hand on Rachel's shoulder, "what Rachel's trying to ask is, are you engaged?"

Emma looked around at the anxious yet honest faces. Sure, they had no business inquiring after her personal life, but when her personal life involved someone very important to them, she couldn't cast blame. Sighing deeply, she held up her left hand as a collective gasp echoed around the room.

"But Miss P!" Mercedes exclaimed. "How could you?"

"What about Mr. Schue?" Quinn stepped forward.

Emma's brow creased in confusion and her mouth hung open in an attempt to say something. Anything. But nothing came out. Of course they'd be on the defensive. The last bit of personal information they had heard from her was that she was dating Santana's ideal May-December illegal romance. They had no idea that the dentist had exited her life and Will had moved into his rightful place.

She wanted to ease the look of injustice and speculation off the faces of the students in front of her, but the whole situation made her burst out laughing.

"Miss Pillsbury, we're serious." Rachel's indignation only made Emma laugh harder. "Mr. Schue means an awful lot to us and we don't want to see him hurt anymore."

The sentiment sobered her and she wiped the tears that leaked out of her eyes.

"Kids, I have no desire to hurt Wi – Mr. Schue." She took a seat and gestured for the students to do the same in the few chairs she had to offer. "Look, I understand you care for him deeply. I do, too. I have no intention to cause him anymore pain than I already have."

"But…" Quinn frowned, "You're engaged."

"To be married," Artie clarified.

"Thank you, Artie." Emma smiled and picked up the phone on her desk, dialing the three-digit extension she had memorized three years prior. His voice echoed in her ear and her heart fluttered. "Can you come down here for a moment?"

"Of course," he responded, and she heard the distinct click as she faced the 12 confused faces in front of her.

"I respect and admire your concern for Mr. Schuester, but I assure you, there's no need to worry."

His footsteps rapidly approached and she waited patiently until he appeared in the doorway, a comical expression gracing his features at the sight of his glee kids.

"What's going on?"

The kids sheepishly looked everywhere but at their teachers and Will moved through the room to stand next to Emma.

"Mr. Schue, don't you know that Miss Pillsbury's engaged?" Rachel seemed offended that Will's knight in shining armor tendencies had yet to kick in.

Will looked at Emma with eyebrow raised and she shrugged.

"I thought you'd want to tell them."

"Mr. Schue, what's going on?" Finn's face was all adorable befuddlement. Will sighed deeply and threaded his fingers through Emma's hand behind her back.

"Yes, I know Miss Pillsbury is engaged."

Rachel stepped forward again. "Then why are you smiling?"

"Well, probably because Miss Pillsbury is engaged to _me_," Will clarified.

The stunned silence was only broken by Kurt's exclamation of "Called it."

"Wait, what?" Finn's eyes finally settled on his teachers' clasped hands, which Emma had moved from their hiding place as Will made his announcement.

After the brief silence, the questions came faster than the teachers could address the questioners.

"You're engaged?"

"To each other?"

"To be married?"

"Yes, Tina, I believe that is the dictionary definition of 'engaged," Will replied wryly.

"But… when did this happen?" Rachel seemed to be doing the math in her head as Santana pushed her way to the front.

"Does this mean Dr. Wanky's available?"

Emma rolled her eyes, not even bothering to respond, as Will's thumb brushed back and forth in the crook between her thumb and forefinger. It tickled, but she didn't dare stop him.

"Rachel, in answer to your question, it happened last week," Emma offered.

"Way to go, Schuester."

"Puckerman…"

Will's voice held the warning tone that Emma always thought was secretly sexy.

"Congratulations, Mr. Schue, Miss Pillsbury," Quinn piped up from the background and gradually the rest of the kids joined in with the well wishes. It built until the glass walls of Emma's office could barely contain the cacophony of excitement from the people within.

Will pressed a chaste kiss to Emma's cheek, the feel of his lips haunting her skin, before leading the way out of the office to various high fives from the male members of the group. Finn lingered in the doorway, waiting a few moments until Will's distant voice telling the kids to get back to class faded into silence.

"Miss Pillsbury?" The tall boy's silhouette practically engulfed the opening.

"Yes, Finn?"

"Please be careful with him." Emma's head shot up at Finn's quiet request as he dug his sneaker into the linoleum. "He means a lot to us. Well, to me."

"Finn…" Emma's hand flew to her chest as if to keep her heart from falling to pieces.

"It's just… We all saw the way you looked at him while he was married and we all know how he felt when your relationship didn't work out. He never told us, of course. Mr. Schue's too decent a man for that. But we could tell he wasn't happy." Finn finally locked eyes with her. "So, if you could… be careful with him. We'd appreciate it."

Emma's throat tightened but a choked, "Of course" managed to escape.

"I'm sorry if we seemed a little… aggressive earlier." Finn shrugged. "We take care of our own. You're one of our own now, Miss Pillsbury."

With a nod and a smile, he was gone, leaving Emma staring after him with a whole new appreciation for Will's affect on his students.

Her phone rang and she jumped, knocking over a cup of pencils and sloshing a mug of tea on her notebook. Reaching for the paper towels with one hand, she cradled the phone between her shoulder and her ear.

"Hello?"

"Well, that'll be a story for the kids," he answered.

"What, how Daddy's students accosted Mommy because they were afraid she'd break his heart?"

"Yeah, something like that," he whispered. She could practically hear his smile through the receiver. "I miss you."

"I miss you, too," she replied, dabbing at the soggy paper. "Now that 12 students know, you do realize that word will be around school within 20 minutes that this ring belongs to you, right?"

"Technically, it belongs to you. But yes, I am well aware."

"Should we made a break for it?"

Will laughed. "I wish. They'd hunt us down sooner or later."

There was silence for a moment, but neither seemed to mind.

"Em, is your calendar in front of you?"

Emma frowned and glanced at her desk to find November staring back at her, marked up with her appointments and notes whose ink bled across the page.

"Yes… why?"

"Are you free October 15, 2011?"

"Um…" Emma laughed and started to flip through the pages, her movements slowing as realization began to dawn. "Wait…"

She could hear his smile again. "I ask because I'd really like to marry you that day… If you're available."

Emma's lower lip trembled and she brought her hand to her mouth in an effort to hide her emotions from curious passersby. Will must have interpreted her silence as hesitation and he launched into a defense for the second week of the tenth month of the year.

"It's perfect, see? This spring is too soon. It's too hot to get married in the summer. We can't do it in September because school's just starting up and then you've major holidays in November and December, so October just seems to - "

"Fit," she finished. "It just seems to fit." Her tears turned her laugh into a sob. "It's perfect, Will."

His tears seemed to be causing his laughter the same problems and he inhaled sharply before telling her he loved her.

"Will, you've turned me into a mess!" she exclaimed, wiping at her eyes.

"Likewise," he sniffed.

"You don't have glass walls."

"True."

"Nor do you wear mascara."

"Only on weekends," he quipped.

She let out a hearty laugh that echoed off the walls. She missed this side of him: the silly side, the side that made the occasional naughty joke without fear of reprimand, the spontaneous side, the giddy side, the side that was happy and excited enough to circle a date almost a year out in bright red ink. She had seen the mark on his calendar that morning, but had thought nothing of it. As the image of the bold, unbreakable, un-erasable color came back to her, its meaning clear for anyone who walked by, her heart soared. This was what she had waited 30 years for. She had waited for him. All silly, giddy, stupid, frustrating, goofy, loveable sides of him.

"Can I ask another favor?"

"Always," she replied, still trying to control the makeup that ran down her cheeks.

"Come with me this weekend to tell my father you're going to be my wife."

A smile blossomed across Emma's face, her makeup forgotten. _Jack. _

"Can't wait."

The rest of the day was tedious to say the least. The whispers got louder and not at all discreet. The looks of barely veiled jealously from both female faculty and students alike were getting ridiculous. Her only haven was the bear bug Shannon gave both of them when they entered the teacher's lounge, but even that small favor was darkened by Sue's command to never procreate. It almost made Emma want to take Will on the tiled floor, just to spite the cheerleading coach, but thoughts of germs, reputations, and general propriety washed that image from her mind.

She really had to control those urges. They were getting a little out of hand.

Three o'clock took forever and a day to arrive, but Emma finally found herself making her way from her office to the choir room, the sounds of the piano beckoning her closer. She poked her head in the door and just watched silently as Rachel commanded the club to show Will what they had been working on in his absence and the club's general abhorrence at listening to anything Rachel had to say. Just as the powerhouse vocalist was winding up for another rant on the injustices against her, Emma opened the door with a creak and made her presence known.

Thirteen heads turned toward her and she flushed under their scrutiny.

"Hi. Am I interrupting?"

"Yes," Rachel started.

"Not at all," Will cut off, throwing a glare at Rachel.

"Mr. Schue, I'm just trying to inform Miss Pillsbury of the lack of motivation amongst the group. It's unacceptable."

"Easy, Rach," Will said, his eyes never leaving Emma. She recognized the look. With hooded eyes and determined jaw, it was like he wanted to devour her, as if she was the ice cream and he was the spoon.

"Well, now that Miss P is here, we can start," Mercedes said.

"What?" Emma and Will both turned towards the kids, his arm slipping discreetly but firmly around her waist.

"We threw a little something together for you." Finn pulled out two chairs and Emma was transported to the last song the kids performed for her and Will, except this time, there was no little girl sitting in Will's lap and no raw heartbreak over a recent parent lost. Emma had been lucky and she wasn't taking anything for granted.

They sat, Will's arm moving from her waist to around her shoulders, rubbing gentle circles over her silk blouse.

"We just did it over lunch, so it might be a little rough," Finn offered by way of explanation.

"I'm sure it'll be great." Will smiled encouragingly.

Emma noticed that Brad was not present and, as the boys began the melody, she realized that they students planned on doing this entirely acapella.

"_Wise men say, Only fools rush in, But I can't help falling in love with you." _

She heard Will's sharp intake of breath and she glanced over at him, noticing the pained expression in his eyes. Not wanting to disrupt the song, she squeezed his knee and kept her focus on the kids.

"_Shall I stay, Would it be a sin, If I can't help falling in love with you." _

The more Emma thought about it, the more she realized that that's all they really were: fools rushing in. But if she had to pick someone to be foolish with, she'd want Will by her side always and forever. His fingers had stopped rubbing her shoulder and, instead, gripped her tightly to his body. She gently rubbed his knee in her effort to ease whatever was troubling him.

It was a wonderful rendition of the song. The lack of music made it real and raw. Her father used to play it on the old record player when she was a little girl, letting her dance on his shoes as Elvis' deep baritone filled the living room on Sunday afternoons.

The kids reached the end of and Emma leaned over to whisper the final lyrics in Will's ear.

"_Take my hand, Take my whole life too, For I can't help falling in love with you." _

Emma pulled away, her hot breath lingering in his ear, as she stood to give the kids a standing ovation.

"That was just beautiful, guys. Just beautiful."

Will followed a second later, his claps slower, but his gratitude evident. In fact, he could barely speak, but the kids seemed to understand the silent communion only possible between loving teacher and devoted students. Emma reached for Will's hand again and he held on for dear life, taking a moment to gather his thoughts and his emotions, before schooling his features into a perfect enthusiastic smile and continuing on with the lesson.

Emma sat on a stool off to the side as she watched her future husband do what he did best. It was a wonderful thing, seeing Will in his element. In this room, all of his best qualities were brought to the forefront: his patience, his kindness, his excitement, his love. Emma knew that there was only one other thing in his life that he was as passionate about and she was beyond lucky to be on the receiving end of it.

They walked slowly to the car with kids skipping down the hall around them, further congratulations thrown over their shoulders.

Emma laughed and waved goodbye, gently nudging Will in the side to do the same. As the door shut and the final echo of teenagers dissipated, Emma turned to Will and took hold of his lapels.

"Talk to me."

Will shrugged. "It's nothing. Really."

"Will," she placed a lingering kiss on his cheek and rested her forehead against his. "Talk to me," she whispered again.

"It was my parents' wedding song," he said, gesturing to choir room. "I sang it at their 35th wedding anniversary earlier this year. I just… wasn't expecting it today."

His name came out in a breath and she wrapped her arms around him, holding him close.

"I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "I'm not. It was a beautiful song." He pulled away and kissed her nose. "And very apt."

"Take my hand," she whispered with a smile on her face as she took his palm in hers.

He tugged her arm until her fingers were splayed perfectly and firmly over his heart.

"Take my whole life too."

"For I can't help falling in love with you," they finished together, foreheads touching, arms holding.

"Follow me home?" Will asked.

"Always," she responded, echoing his words from last night.

And that's how they spent the remainder of their week: sharing cars, sharing beds, sharing popcorn. On Tuesday, Will woke up in Emma's apartment. On Wednesday, Emma woke up in Will's. The routines were molding, changing to fit the needs of the other. It was no longer an individual thing and Emma realized that she had come farther in four days of an engagement than she ever had in four months of a relationship. Emma let Will make pancakes (with soy milk), choose the movie (no Bruckheimer), and fold the laundry (she refolded it early the next morning, but she loved that he tried).

Before they knew it, Friday was upon them and they were packing overnight bags to spend the weekend with Will's father. Emma didn't want to let on just how excited she was. In her few days at the Schuester home, she had grown to love Jack.

With a parting shot from Sue about their "mating habits," Emma and Will piled into her car and set off, excited and nervous about the announcement to come.

"He'll be okay with this, right?"

Will looked at her incredulously before returning his eyes to the road. "Are you kidding me? He loves you!"

Emma shrugged. "I just hope your father's prepared to get a new daughter-in-law."

Will sighed. "Look I know what you're thinking."

Emma tried to protest but Will cut her off.

"You're thinking that everything you do will be measured against her. Emma," he reached for her hand, "trust me when I say that Terri couldn't hold a candle to you. I know that, my father knows that, and my mother's ghost knows that."

Emma giggled and Will placed a kiss in the center of her palm.

"We're about to give my father the best news he's heard all year."

With her confidence boosted, Emma allowed herself to get lost in her thoughts as she stared out the window at the passing scenery. She allowed herself to bathe in the warm glow of wedding planning, a luxury she hadn't indulged in amid the family crises. She envisioned white dresses and pressed tuxedos, pale roses and tall chocolate cakes, but mostly she thought of a home and a life that he had secretly hoped for in the comfort of her solitary apartment so many years ago.

_402…_

The years of shattered daydreams and emotional torment were all about to be vindicated.

_404… _

Will gripped her hand as they pulled up in front of the familiar house with the wraparound porch, the flowers wilting in the absence of their caretaker and the rocking chairs reduced from two to one.

_406._

"Will! Will! Will! Will!"

The little girl's voice pierced the quiet afternoon as Charlotte hurtled herself out of the front door and over the lawn, Jack following close behind.

"Surprise!" she heard the four-year-old yell.

Emma inhaled deeply and stared into the eyes of her future father-in-law. It was as if, with one look at her, he knew all that they were about to tell him, all of the words they had carefully choreographed.

She smiled and waved towards Jack as Charlotte tackled Will at the knees.

But what bothered her most was that she couldn't read the look he gave her in return.


	16. Ghosts

_Ghosts_

"Munchkin! What are you doing here?" Will bounded across the lawn and swung Charlotte into his arms.

"Uncle Jack is baby-sitting. But I told him I didn't need a baby-sitter."

"And she then proceeded to get her head stuck in the banister railings," Jack continued.

"You getting a cold, Squirt? Your voice sounds like this," Will said as he squeezed his nose. Charlotte laughed and pinched her thumb and forefinger together.

"Just a little one."

"Oh just a little one?" Will echoed.

Jack's gaze fell on Emma again and his face broke out into a grin, easing her fears. He opened his arms and she gave him a large hug, but as she pulled away, there was still something in his eyes. It was buried deep, hidden beneath a tightly pulled veil, and anxiety gnawed at her core once again.

Jack moved from Emma to Will and he wrapped his son in a hug, careful not to squish Charlotte. "Hey, kiddo."

"Hey, Dad." Will's voice was strangled as Charlotte's short arms tightly wound around his neck.

"John and Holly flew in for a wedding on Rob's side of the family. They brought Charlotte to keep me company," Jack smiled. "She's keeping me on my toes. I haven't had to prevent this much trouble since you were this age."

Will kissed Charlotte on the cheek. "Are you getting into trouble for Uncle Jack?"

Charlotte looked shyly at Emma and buried her face in Will's neck. "Maybe."

"Hi, Munchkin," Emma said, rubbing her hand up and down the four-year-old's back. The nickname rolled easily off her lips and Charlotte leaned over to give Emma a hug, while never quite letting go of Will.

"Let's get you settled." Jack clapped his hands together and pulled a bag from the backseat. Will juggled Charlotte with one arm and Emma's suitcase in the other as the foursome made their way up the porch and into the house.

The familiar smell of apples and cinnamon engulfed Emma and she inhaled deeply, letting the scent wash over her as Jack and Will walked the bags upstairs. Charlotte skipped over to the couch and plopped down, inviting Emma to join her.

"How long are you here for?"

"My daddy said that they'd pick me up on Sunday."

"You do sound like you're getting a cold." Emma made a mental note to find her hand sanitizer later, though for now, she was content to just sit in the child's company.

"I can't breathe out of my nose."

Emma scrunched hers. "I'm sorry."

The muffled din of raised voices above them cause both Emma and Charlotte to glance towards the ceiling. The breath caught in her throat and she looked down into the little girl's wide eyes.

"Are Will and Uncle Jack fighting?" she whispered.

Swallowing her fear, Emma shook her head. "No, sweetie. They're just discussing. Let's go get some lemonade."

Emma led Charlotte into the kitchen, away from the voices that floated down the stairs. Her hands shook as she pulled out two glasses and the pitcher from the refrigerator, the little girl blissfully oblivious as she rambled on about the new goldfish her parents got her.

Footsteps on the stairs caused Emma to pause mid-pour, Charlotte's voice growing more and more distant as Emma's attention became solely focused on the banister and the person about to appear.

Will descended a moment later, running his hands over his face and sighing deeply.

"Emma, what's wrong?" Charlotte asked blinking between the redhead and the half-filled glass, her voice causing Will's gaze to snap to Emma's.

Emma knew she had been caught. Her anxiety was broadcasting like an emergency alert system. She knew Will could see it in her eyes, in the tense way her shoulders were set, and in the way the pitcher of lemonade hovered five inches above the glass she had abandoned. Will's face softened and he gave a slight nod in response to the question lingering in Emma's eyes. _Is everything okay?_

Charlotte gently tapped Emma on the thigh and the older woman jumped, sloshing the lemonade on the counter.

"Sorry, Munchkin." She cleaned up the mess and finished pouring, handing the glass to the little girl. Will walked up to her and placed a kiss on her temple, breathing in the scent of her hair.

"He knows, doesn't he." She felt Will nod against her. "I shouldn't have come," she murmured, pain flooding her chest. Will pulled away and took her hands in his.

"No, no, no. This has absolutely nothing to do with you. My father adores you."

"But you were..." she gestured silently towards the stairs, mindful of the curious four-year-old sipping her lemonade just behind them. He placed a gentle kiss on her lips, silencing her.

"We'll talk about it later. Don't let it worry you." His hand lingered on her waist as he walked around her and kissed Charlotte on the head. She smiled up at him with a lemonade mustache marking her upper lip.

"Let me tell you about my goldfish!"

The tension eventually dissipated as Jack came down the stairs and, without so much as a word, wrapped Emma in a hug.

"You felt like a part of it before, but welcome to the family," he whispered as he pulled away.

Emma felt overwhelmed as emotion robbed her of her voice. Her lip wavered, but she managed a nod, feeling Will's arm wrap around her waist.

"I'm sorry if it caused…" she trailed off, not knowing what word she wanted to use, but Jack shook his head and gently tapped her on the chin.

"Oh, sweetheart, that had nothing to do with you. We'll talk about it later when inquiring minds are fast asleep."

All three adults turned to look at Charlotte, who leaned further and further across the table in an effort to be part of the conversation. Realizing that she had been caught, her eyes widened and the chair wobbled beneath her as she scrambled to sit back down in it.

Charlotte's cold got worse as the day wore on. Emma sat with her on the couch reading Dr. Seuss as Jack scoured the house for children's medicine leftover from the last time the cousins visited. Will meandered through the living room, no doubt discovering how it felt to be back for the first time since his mother's funeral. He paused at pictures, smiling lightly before moving on, glancing every so often in Emma's direction when the little girl in her arms let out a particularly painful sounding cough.

"Nothing in the cabinet upstairs," Jack said as he walked into the living room.

"I'll head to the store," Will offered. "What do you think? Children's Motrin?"

Jack shrugged. "I haven't dealt with a sick kid since you had the chicken pox."

"Well, I haven't dealt with a sick kid at all!"

"Come on," Emma said, as she closed the book. "I'll go with you. I'm sure we can figure it out together."

She noticed the slight widening of Jack's eyes, but she didn't dwell on it. After all, what was so special about offering to go to the store? Emma scooted Charlotte off her lap and set Dr. Seuss on the table.

"I wanna come," the little girl protested from the couch.

"No, Squirt, you gotta stay here and rest," Will said, placing his hand on her forehead. "Whoa." He pulled his hand away and pressed it to his own before touching his wrist to Charlotte's head again. "She's burning up."

"Really?" Emma stood beside him and felt Charlotte's cheeks. "Yeah, she is."

Will and Emma agreed to take Charlotte to the pharmacy with them in case they had any questions for the doctor while Jack went to pick up soup from the store. The precocious four-year-old was unusually quiet in the back seat and Emma watched Will's eyes frequently dart the rearview mirror to check on her.

Emma finally broke the silence. "Your Dad gave me an odd look when I offered to go with you."

Will frowned and made a noncommittal noise. "He's probably just remembering."

"Remembering what?"

Will sighed. "When I was with Terri and what she would do when I got sick." He failed to elaborate so Emma prompted him. "She did this weird baby-talk thing. It creeped me out a bit but if it meant she brought me soup, I played along." He shrugged. "She hated taking care of other people. Only herself. I think she liked to see me down. My Dad's just remembering that."

"That's awful."

Will shrugged. "It's in the past. She can't haunt us anymore."

"She does, though." The words were out before she could bite them back.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Will look over at her, but she kept her focus on the passing trees.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Emma shook her head. "Nothing."

"Emma." He threaded his fingers through hers on the center console.

"Just the look on your father's face proves that she still lingers."

"Em," he kissed the palm of her hand. "I can't erase the memory of Terri. From my mind or my father's. Trust me, I wish I could. But she's bruised us all entirely too much to even make an attempt."

His words soothed the anxiety in her chest, but the muffled voices from earlier that day clouded her mind. She hungered to know what they had been talking about, but also had the strong desire to run in the other direction whenever the thought entered her mind. _We'll talk about it later_, they had said. She was beginning to fear "later" more and more as the day went on.

Will pulled the car into the pharmacy lot and put it in park, facing her fully and taking her hands in his.

"Emma, there is no comparison. None. You surpass her in every aspect. That is what my father notices. And that is what I've knownsince long before I was allowed to."

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too," he said, placing a kiss on her nose.

Will opened his door first and gently undid Charlotte's seatbelt. She immediately reached out for him and wordlessly put her head on his shoulder as he lifted her snugly to his chest. Emma ran her fingers softly through the little girl's tresses in an attempt to soothe the pain she no doubt felt in her head.

The automatic doors slid back, granting them entrance to the brightly lit store. The cold/flu remedies aisle was overwhelming and Emma scanned the brightly colored boxes for anything labeled "Kids'" or "Children's." Picking up Children's Motrin and Children's Robitussin, Emma flipped the boxes over and read the back.

"She's four…" Emma scanned the directions and warnings, suddenly fearful that one wrong assessment would hurt the little girl in her fiance's arms. "How much does she weigh?"

Will's eyes widened and he gently bounced Charlotte. "I'd say somewhere between 30 and 40 pounds."

"Okay, so one and a half teaspoons of Motrin every six to eight hours but no more than four times a day. And the Robitussin is one teaspoon every six to eight hours."

Will's eyebrows shot up. "That was a lot of numbers."

"Think of it as practice," Emma joked.

"For us?" Will choked out.

Emma only shrugged and wandered off to find the tissues with lotion, leaving Will alone with Charlotte in the middle of the aisle.

She didn't know what made her say it, but it was an image that played on loop in her head. She kept seeing herself comforting a small girl with flaming red hair or a little boy with sandy curls as Will lay on the other side, humming gently into their child's ear. She shook her head as she attempted to focus on the rows of tissues in front of her. She could hear Charlotte's cough from across the pharmacy and, grabbing a box, she followed the horrible sound to find Will standing at the prescription desk talking with the doctor on site.

"Let's take a look at that," she heard the doctor say as he pulled out a thermometer. With a little squirming from Charlotte and some soothing words from Will, the doctor placed the thermometer in Charlotte's ear and spoke to Will about the medicines they had picked out as they waited for the tool to beep. Emma sidled up to Will and squeezed his arm in an attempt to ease the look of worry from his face.

_Beep. Beep._

The doctor pulled the thermometer out and Charlotte promptly buried her face in Will's neck again.

"101.2. Not good, young lady." He gestured to the medicine. "What you've got is good. Just keep an eye on that cough and if her fever gets anywhere near 103 or 104, bring her to the hospital."

"Hospital," Will mouthed the words and Emma squeezed his arm tighter. They had seen enough of hospitals in the recent weeks. After paying for their purchases, Will eased the sleeping child back into the car seat and Emma was swift to wrap her arms around him.

"She'll be okay. Kids get sick all the time."

"I know. I just… I feel bad. She's so miserable and there's nothing I can do."

"Sure you can." Emma kissed him. "You can give her the medicine and sing her to sleep and read her stories and make her soup. You're her hero, Will. Everything you do helps her."

The corner of his mouth quirked up and she placed another kiss to it.

"Well, I'm sorry that you're spending your weekend around a sick child."

"I don't mind, Will. Really."

She didn't want to admit the real reason she didn't mind. Though she had gotten much better in dealing with germs, watching Will was the true reason she wasn't running in the other direction armed with Lysol and a face mask. He was so good with Charlotte, the look on his face showing that the little girl had his complete and undivided attention. It challenged Emma to overcome her phobias if it meant putting that look on his face again in the future.

They entered the house and inhaled the smell of chicken noodle soup.

"Mom's favorite," Will whispered as he gently set Charlotte down on the couch and bundled her in a blanket. "Mom always made this for me when I was sick."

"I also found some Vicks Vapor Rub," Jack called as he stirred the pot. "I thought it might clear her airways."

At that moment, Charlotte let out a particularly painful cough and the tears came before she could stop them. Will was at her side in a flash, pulling her into his lap and gently stroking her hair. Emma held up the bag and Will nodded at her to pull out the medicine.

"Hey, Munchkin, we've got some medicine for you."

"Is it red?" She sniffed. Will quirked an eyebrow at Emma, who looked at the bottle and nodded.

"Yeah, it's red," Will replied.

"No!" Charlotte clamped her hands over her mouth and buried her head in Will's chest.

"You should have said it was purple," Jack chuckled from the kitchen.

"Why are you laughing?" Will asked as he attempted to pry Charlotte's hands away from her mouth.

"Because you did the exact same thing to me when you were this age. I thought I was going to have to wait until you had kids to gloat, but thankfully Charlotte has afforded me this opportunity."

"You're hilarious, Dad," Will gritted out, still struggling with the squirming four-year-old. "Absolutely hilarious."

"Charlotte, sweetie?" Emma tried. "How about you drink some apple juice right after the medicine to wash the taste from your mouth. Then you can have some hot chicken noodle soup."

"_Right_ after the medicine?" Charlotte's head appeared from Will's sweater.

"Right after," Emma assured.

Charlotte sniffed and Will kissed her head. "Okay."

Will gave Emma a look of gratitude as she went to pour the apple juice. It took two attempts for Charlotte to get the Robitussin down and another four to finish the Motrin. They failed to mention that there were two she had to take and she didn't care one bit that the second one was orange. She got extra apple juice for that. After a small meal of chicken noodle soup, Emma rubbed some Vicks Vapor Rub on Charlotte's chest as she drifted off to a fitful sleep.

She exited the room adjacent to the kitchen to find Will staring a picture on the wall of his mother and Joanie placing what could only be described as forced kisses onto the cheeks of a fourteen-year-old Will who was being held against his wishes. Emma smiled and placed the vapor rub in Will's hand. Though his mother was gone, her remedies and methods permeated the walls of the house and the minds and hearts of its occupants.

Jack cleared his throat and held up a bottle of red wine, earning a hearty "Yes, please" from both Will and Emma. The cork was popped and the three adults collapsed into the living room and relished the silence for a moment.

"Well, Emma, I'm assuming this wasn't the welcome to the family you expected."

Emma smiled and took a sip of her wine. "I don't mind," she said, her eyes darting between both Will and Jack to assure them she was okay. It was this assurance that caused her to catch the look shared between father and son, before Will cleared his throat and sat forward on the couch. Emma's heart jumped into her throat and her breath turned to lead in her chest.

_Here we go._

"Em, we wanted to talk to you about what happened earlier."

"Will, really, it's none of my business."

"No, Emma, we want you to know," Jack offered, his gaze boring into hers as if willing her to believe him. "As soon as you pulled up, I knew. I knew there was a ring on your finger before I even saw your hand. I could see it practically beaming out of both of you."

Will and Emma chuckled and glanced at each other.

"When Will and I went upstairs, I asked if congratulations were in order. He said yes and I made the swift and incorrect judgment of asking if it was a little soon. Will didn't take too kindly to that." Jack smiled at his son. "I asked not because I disapprove of your engagement. Not at all. Quite the opposite, in fact. You see…" Jack looked over at his son with nothing but love and pride. "Will lost a child just a year ago. His divorce was finalized less than that. I worried that the pace would put a strain on your relationship and the last thing I want to see is for this," he gestured between them, "to not work out. To see both of you unhappy. Some other words were exchanged, but that was at the heart of the matter."

The more Jack spoke, the harder it became for Emma to keep her emotions in check. Here was a man whom she had met only once before, yet it felt like they had fallen into step with each other for a lifetime journey. Will took her hand and snapped her out of her thoughts.

"I explained to Dad that it had always been you, long before everything else happened. Though we haven't really 'dated,' you know me better than anyone else. And I feel like I know you pretty darn well too," he laughed. "Seeing us together made Dad realize that he had nothing to worry about."

"Jack," Emma choked out, but the older man held up his hand.

"Emma, I also want you to know that I wasn't, nor would I ever, compare you to Terri. Will made a mention of it earlier and I - I wanted to clear things up." Emma glared at Will but returned her focus to Jack as he took a deep breath. "That woman…" he looked down and squeezed his hands together so tightly, his knuckles turned white. "She destroyed my son… You put him back together."

Emma was about to open her mouth to respond when Will's hand and gentle, "Shhh," stopped her.

"What's the matter?"

"You hear that?" Will's eyes were wide and he stood, making his way to the office off of the kitchen.

A distant curse brought Jack and Emma to their feet. Will emerged from the office a second later carrying Charlotte in his arms.

"What's wrong?" Emma's voice had risen an octave in her panic and her heart beat a rapid percussion against her chest.

"She's having trouble breathing." Will lowered his ear to Charlotte's mouth and listened, as the little girl grabbed frantically at his shirt. "She's got croup."

"Croup?" It was a term that evoked some distant memory for Emma, but she couldn't place her finger on it. Will headed for the stairs, shifting Charlotte in his arms.

"Where are you going?"

"Shower," Jack replied, following his son up the stairs. "He knows what to do. Will had croup up until he was eight."

By the time, Emma made it up the stairs and into the bathroom, Will had stripped Charlotte and set her in the bathtub, running the hot water as the room filled up with steam. Jack left to get the vapor rub, muttering something about moist air and menthol, and Emma shut the door, taking a seat next to Will.

Charlotte took deep, shuddering breaths and Will attempted to ease her fears.

"Charlotte, baby, breathe. Nice and slow, sweetheart," he coached as he stroked the wet hair from her face. "That's it, nice and slow."

She reached out and held his hand, whimpering slightly against the hot water and the pressure on her chest.

"You're doing so well, Munchkin. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

As Will comforted Charlotte, Emma comforted Will, the telltale shake in his voice giving away just how scared he was. She placed a hand on his back and a kiss to his shoulder as water splashed down on them.

The hyperventilating slowed but the squeaking noise whenever Charlotte tried to inhale oxygen into her inflamed lungs made Emma ache to make it all go away for the little girl.

"Good job, baby," Will continued to praise.

After fifteen minutes, Charlotte's labored breathing had not gotten any easier. Jack returned with a glass of cold water and the tub of vapor rub as Will picked Charlotte up and wrapped her in a towel. He dried her off from head to toe and carried her into the bedroom where he pulled an old Ohio State hoodie of his over her body and covered her head with a knit cap. Emma watched helplessly from the doorway, Jack's hand on her shoulder doing little to comfort her, as Will rubbed more vapor rub on the little girl's chest.

"Take a sip for me, sweetheart," Will requested, holding the glass of cold water to Charlotte's lips. She complied and Will held out the glass, "Emma could take this?"

Emma rushed forward, thrilled to be doing something other than holding up the wall, as Will picked Charlotte up one more time and grabbed a blanket off the bed.

"Where are you going?" she asked as she followed him down the stairs.

"The moisture helps but so does cold air. Her stridor's not going away."

"Stridor?" Emma was so lost.

"The squeaky noise."

"Oh… You know a lot about this."

Will kicked the front door open with his foot and headed over to the porch chairs. "A four-year-old with the flu? I have no idea. A four-year-old with croup? Now, that I know." He settled himself in the chair, Charlotte in his lap as he bundled the blanket around her. "Em, can you grab the other blanket off the couch."

She nodded and returned to the house, finding Jack sitting on the couch sipping his wine.

"How are you so calm?" She grabbed the blanket off the chair.

"Honey, I've lived through this many times. When you have kids, it'll terrify you at first too. But then you learn that kids are much more resilient than you think they are. Charlotte's gonna be just fine, especially with you two as caretakers."

The constant hum of Emma's body seemed to dim a little as she took Jack's words to heart. She thanked him and returned to the porch to hand Will the blanket, which he wrapped around Charlotte's tiny body. She looked smaller than usual, swimming in Will's old college sweatshirt and the hat that slipped over her eyes.

"How you doing there, Squirt? You cold?"

Charlotte shook her head and settled in against Will's chest. Emma pulled up another chair, the shuddering noises coming from Charlotte's chest already lessened.

Emma watched Will watch Charlotte, silent as he listened to the steady rise and fall of her chest.

"Your Dad said you had it until you were eight."

Will looked up at her and smiled. "Later than that actually. Most kids only get it between infancy and four. The last time I had it, I was …" he looked up in thought, "…twenty-four."

"Twenty-four?"

Will nodded. "I had just gotten my first apartment after graduation, got sick, couldn't breathe, called my parents, they told me to stick my head in the freezer."

Emma laughed, but noticed that Will was looking at her with absolutely sincerity. "Wait, are you serious?"

He shrugged. "What can I say? Cold helps. Right, Squirt?"

"Uh huh." Her voice was small, but at least she was making words.

"The worst case was when I was eight. I woke up literally unable to breathe at all. I thought I was dying. My parents put me outside. It was January."

Emma shivered both at the thought and at the cold November wind.

"I actually slept outside that night. My Dad stayed with me the whole night in the sleeping bag next to me. They were always really good at this. Especially my mom," Will said as he looked out across the lawn. "She always talked me down from the ledge when I was terrified of suffocating."

"Seems to have rubbed off on you." She gestured to the calm girl in Will's arms.

Will smiled. "Guess so."

Eventually, Charlotte's breathing evened out and Will brought her back inside. He placed her in the bed, between him and Emma, so he could keep an ear out for any change in her lungs.

By the end of the night, all worry over what Jack thought of their engagement and the pure joy Emma felt at being accepted into the Schuester family had been completely left by the wayside. Real life got in the way and she was okay with that. She was learning to roll with the punches, unexpected and frightening though they were.

Emma woke to a dark room sometime in the early hours of the morning and rolled over to curl into Will's chest but all she snuggled up to was empty, cold sheet. Squinting her eyes, she bolted upright in bed, fear gripping her at the thought of Charlotte struggling to breathe. She got out of bed and padded downstairs: no sign of Will, no sign of Jack. She was about to turn back around when she noticed the porch light was still on. She creaked the door open and braced herself against the early November air, but the sight that met her warmed her to down to her bones.

Will was fast asleep in the rocking chair with his feet propped up on a flowerpot and Charlotte resting peacefully in his lap, both in matching knit hats. Her little hand was fisted in Will's shirt, her head tucked neatly under his chin. Charlotte was still wheezing, but no longer struggling for breath.

She knew Will Schuester was good at many things, but she never thought she'd be adding this one to the list.

Placing another blanket from inside on the sleeping pair and tucking it tight around them, she offered one kiss for Will and another for Charlotte before returning to an empty bed.

Over the past couple of weeks, she had learned to hate spending nights away from Will.

But this was one exception she could make.


	17. Discoveries

**Dear Readers, beware – there's some sauciness in this chappy. Because we all need a little sauce, right? **

_Discoveries_

The sun streamed through the kitchen window as Emma stirred the spoon in her tea. Sometime in the middle of the night, Will and Charlotte had come back inside but only made it as far as the couch, where they now slumbered.

Charlotte's soft snoring due to her stuffy nose made Emma giggle. Neither had taken off their knit caps, which were slightly askew - Will's was half off his head and Charlotte's was sliding over her eyes. The couch was a little too short for him and his feet hung over the armrest, as Charlotte lay curled up on his chest.

Jack sat at the kitchen table, silent save for the occasional rustle of a newspaper page. The smell of coffee hovered in the kitchen as she looked out the window at the neighbor's dead rose bushes, twirling the ring around her finger. She was slowly getting used to it: its weight, its reflection in the light, the way it caught on her cardigans. It no longer felt foreign to her just as her soy milk no longer felt foreign in Will's refrigerator.

She remembered back to her first night at his apartment. He had told her to help herself to anything in the kitchen and she started out on what she assumed would be a fruitless hunt for tea, but she found not only boxes of chamomile and English Breakfast but also a tea kettle and soy milk.

"Will?" She had asked, holding up the carton. "How long have you had this?"

He looked bashful and ran a lazy hand through his hair. "A while."

"And this?" She held up the tea.

"Even longer."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "Just in case."

If she hadn't loved him before, that certainly sealed the deal.

She shook her head of her thoughts and looked down at her wardrobe. She was wearing a pair of Will's boxers and a t-shirt from UVA, her father's alma mater – evidential proof that she was more than comfortable in the Schuester household. Normally, she never made an appearance without a shower, makeup, and carefully coordinated outfit. However, Jack sat at the table in his pajama pants, a t-shirt, and a bathrobe so she was in good company.

"What musical won the Tony Award in 2009?" Jack asked, forehead creased in thought as a pencil dangled over the paper.

"That's a question for your son, not for me." Emma smiled.

"In that case, what's a seven letter word for 'green."

Emma frowned, mentally scanning the contents of her closet. _Lime, Kelly, Forest, Chartreuse…_

"Emerald."

Jack tested out the letters and nodded. "Well done."

Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and she turned in time to see Will's arm stretch above his head before disappearing behind the couch again. She tiptoed over and peered around the arm.

Will was awake, staring at the ceiling, with his hand gently resting on Charlotte's chest as he listened for her steady intake of breath.

"Hi," Emma whispered.

"Hi," he mouthed back.

"Is she okay?"

Will nodded. "The question is, how am I going to get her off of me?"

Emma suppressed a giggle as Will maneuvered Charlotte to the side and scooted out from under her. She burrowed herself into the pillows and Will and Emma held their breath until she stopped squirming and her breathing evened out again.

"Rough night?" she asked, gently tugging on his hat.

"You have no idea," he replied, sinking into her arms. She rubbed her hands up and down his back, feeling the tension release his muscles and his weight sag against her.

"Your Dad made coffee."

"Mmm, I knew I loved him."

Emma led him into the kitchen and Will leaned down and kissed his father's head as he passed.

"What musical won the Tony Award in 2009?"

"Really, Dad? I got three hours of sleep and you're quizzing me?" Will rubbed his bloodshot eyes.

"Well _The New York Times_ is quizzing me. And stop pretending like you don't know the answer."

Will rolled his eyes and sighed. "Revival or original?"

"Original."

"_Billy Elliot_."

"That's my boy," Jack grinned, writing in the letters.

"That's technically cheating," Will countered.

"No it's not."

Will shook his head and wrapped his arms around Emma where she stood at the counter, pouring him a cup of coffee.

"Your hands are still cold." She looked down to where he palmed her stomach.

"Well, you're warm," he replied, holding her tighter.

"Just out of curiosity," Jack interrupted, "what _was_ the Best Revival musical of 2009?"

"_Hair_," Will answered without missing a beat.

Emma giggled, her stomach muscles contracting under Will's hands. He took a sip of his coffee, never quite letting go of her. It was a lazy morning and they remained attached to each other in some way throughout it. Whether it was entwined fingers under the table, a hand on a knee, or a kiss on the palm, they were like magnets: always finding each other once again.

An hour later, as Jack finally claimed victory over the crossword puzzle and Will shuffled bacon and eggs from the pan onto some plates, Charlotte came padding into the kitchen, the blanket dragging behind her.

"Hey, Munchkin," Will set the plates on the table and crouched down in front of her. "How are you feeling?"

She responded by wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on tightly.

"Better," came her muffled response.

"Good." Will lifted her up. "Are you hungry? We have bacon and eggs, but if you don't want that, I could always make Mickey Mouse pancakes."

Charlotte grinned. "Mickey Mouse."

"Thought so," Will replied.

Pancakes were made, a round of Monopoly was started and then abandoned, and by 2pm everyone was finally out of their pajamas… sort of. Emma assumed that getting a four-year-old out of a Men's Ohio State sweatshirt would be no problem, but clearly she underestimated the situation. First, Charlotte's head got stuck in the sleeve, then her hair got caught up in some string from a hole in the neck, before Emma was finally able to release the girl from her 100% cotton prison.

The bath had been drawn and a thick haze of steam clouded the bathroom, fogging up the mirror and leaving moisture on the tiles. She knew the humidity would wreak havoc with her hair, but oddly, she didn't mind. It was just hair. She could fix it later.

She made another note to mention the progress with her therapist.

Charlotte, having been slightly scarred from Will dumping her rather unceremoniously into the tub the night prior (regardless if it was to save her life), was a little wary of letting him near her when a bath factored into the equation. He was, for all intents and purposes, banished to the hallway. That's how Emma ended up sitting on the sage bathmat next to the tub as Charlotte played lifeguard with her Barbies.

"Sage," Emma snapped her fingers. "Another shade of green."

"What?" Charlotte looked at her quizzically.

Emma shook her head and chuckled, "Nothing," the image of Jack sitting at the table with a determined look on his face fading away.

"Emma?"

"Hm?"

"Are you and Will getting married?"

She was taken aback and the bottle of shampoo she had been turning over in her hands fell to the floor.

"Actually, yes. We are."

"Really?" Charlotte's eyes lit up and her Barbie lay forgotten in the water. "So you're gonna be my family like Will's my family?"

Emma's throat got tight as she swallowed and nodded. _Family_. The word has always been an obligation to her, just a bunch of people you had to call on birthdays and national holidays. She had spent every Christmas and birthday since leaving Virginia alone in her apartment, but now that Will was her "plus one" at all major events, she was warming to the idea of family more and more.

"Does that mean you're going to have babies? I need a playmate. Not that Will's not a good playmate, but he doesn't always fit into the princess castles that I build."

Emma choked in surprise and then snorted with laughter at the image of Will stuck in a princess castle.

She attempted to keep her voice even as she asked, "Does he get stuck often?"

"Every time we play."

"And how often do you play?"

"None of your business," came Will's voice from behind the door.

Emma laughed, "Eavesdropper!"

"Go away!" Charlotte yelled.

"All right, all right."

She heard him get up from his spot on the other side of the door and she wondered how long he had been there since she hadn't heard him sit in the first place. In the commotion, Charlotte's question was lost and Emma was grateful. Sure, they'd have babies. Someday. But that required a certain physical act that Emma hadn't exactly faced yet. The warm feeling in the pit of her stomach was growing by the day. It seemed that the more in love with Will she fell, the more persistent the feeling was. And being here, in his home, learning more about his past and what made him the man he was, made her love him more every second. Indeed, the urge to lunge at him across the dinner table in the presence of his father and cousin made Emma feel increasingly awkward.

Emma poured a quarter-size dollop of shampoo into her hand and gently massaged it into Charlotte's wet curls.

"I'm happy he's marrying you. I didn't like Terri."

"No?" Emma knew she shouldn't have relished in it, but it did feel like a tiny victory.

"No, she was mean. She never played."

She was perceptive for a four-year-old, though imagining Terri and Charlotte together didn't exactly conjure up images of tea parties and teddy bears.

"I'm sorry, Munchkin," Emma said as she filled a cup with water. "Tilt your head back."

Using her hand to shield the child's eyes, Emma washed the shampoo out of Charlotte's hair and cocooned her in a giant towel, before carrying her to Will's childhood bedroom to get her ready to eat.

Dinner was a disorganized affair with Charlotte practically falling asleep in her food and Jack quizzing Will on past crossword answers that stumped him.

"For the last time, Dad, I don't know who plays Iron-man."

Emma snorted. "Oh come on, even _I _know that one."

Will glared at her and she feigned innocence. As Charlotte's head bobbed for the fifth time, Will pushed his chair back announcing he was putting her to bed. He picked up the four-year-old and placed a kiss to Emma's head as he passed.

"Ten bucks says he doesn't make it back down," Jack said as he brought the dishes to the sink.

Sure enough, twenty minutes had passed and Will still hadn't returned. Emma dried the last of the dishes and, bidding Jack goodnight, went on the hunt to find him.

Their bedroom door was slightly ajar and Emma pushed it open to find Will sound asleep on the bed, glasses propped up on the end of his nose, a Dr. Seuss book open on his stomach. Clearly it was the only reading material he could get his hands on.

Stifling her laugh, Emma tiptoed across the carpet and bit her lip as she tried to remove the glasses without waking him up to no avail. He stirred and blinked his eyes open, a look of confusion on his face until she came into focus.

"Hi," he smiled.

"Hi," she replied. "Doing some heavy reading, are we?" She held up _Green Eggs and Ham_.

"Sam I am." He grabbed her around the waist and she let out a yelp as he flipped her over into the bed next to him.

"I thought you were sleepy."

"I got a second wind," he replied, peppering her face with kisses.

"Wait, wait, wait." She scampered out of bed and closed the door, locking it with a click. "Let's not scar the child for life, shall we?" Will's eyes went wide as she slowly made her way back to the bed. "This is your parents' house, so I'm not entirely comfortable with getting too…" she searched for the word, "frisky. I'm also not quite… you know… ready."

"Em, we don't have to do anything. I'm content with just holding you. And maybe a kiss or two."

"That's sweet, Will." She got a wicked glimmer in her eye. "But I'm not."

She crawled across the bed and Will swallowed hard, his breathing picking up the closer she got. Her heart was hammering against her chest and she was shocked he couldn't hear it. He scooted up against the headboard and she straddled him.

"Is this okay?"

He nodded, words failing him. She took his hands and placed them on her hips before reaching forward and slowly unbuttoning his shirt. She leaned down and kissed his forehead, his nose, his chin and then his chest, exposing more skin with every button she undid. He leaned forward, allowing her to slip the shirt off his shoulders.

"You're beautiful." She traced the muscles of his chest, watching them flex under her touch.

"Look who's talking," he replied, nipping at her ear. "Em, if there's anything you're uncomfortable with, just say the word and I'll…" he trailed off as she placed a finger to his lips.

"Like I said, Will. I'm so happy it's going to be you. I've never felt more comfortable with anybody else." She pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it behind her, exposing her blue bra. "I've been waiting for you." And with that she took his hands and placed them on her chest.

"Em," he growled as he pulled her into a kiss and she giggled at his enthusiasm.

The kiss had started off slow and sensual, each exploring the other, but they were rapidly losing rhythm and finesse as pure instinct took over. Will reached around her and unfastened her bra, which she pulled off and tossed over her shoulder to join her shirt. He flipped her over and she banged her head against the headboard, letting out a laugh.

"Are you all right?" He pulled away.

"Fine," she laughed. "Keep going."

He didn't need to be told twice. His hands wandered over her smooth stomach, hovering just inches above her jeans. She understood what he was doing – he was waiting for permission, which she gave as her hand took his and guided it to the button at her waist. There was no way to smoothly remove a pair of skinny jeans and both giggled and stumbled through the process as Will tugged the garment down around her ankles, letting them eventually drop to the floor.

"This is so not romantic."

"Of course it is," she said, guiding his lips to hers. "It'll be one of my favorite memories, when you failed to undress me."

He looked her up and down, wearing nothing but a pair of panties. "Excuse me, but I think I did a pretty good job, if I do say so myself."

She wiped the smug smile off his face when, without warning or permission, she reached for the button on his khakis and rapidly undid them, sliding them over his hips. Without any grace whatsoever, he kicked the offending pants off, leaving him in nothing but his striped boxers, his desire obvious.

Emma blushed as he leaned down for another kiss, his finger ghosting over the front of her underwear. She gasped and he did it again, earning a quiet moan.

"Touch me," she whispered and, with a kiss to her bellybutton, he pulled the last piece of clothing from her body.

Will's fingers danced lower, gently pressing his palm against her. She moaned into his mouth as he slipped a finger inside.

"You all right?"

"Uh huh," she whimpered.

"If you want to stop just say so," he said, as he sucked a nipple into his mouth.

"God, don't stop."

He slipped another finger in and curled them, causing a thousand lights to pop behind her eyes. Her hand gripped his where it rested near her head and he swallowed her moans with a kiss. Coming down from her high, she lay panting on the bed, a tear making its way down her cheek as Will rested his forehead against hers.

"That was amazing."

"Did I hurt you?" His face was all worry and concern and her heart swelled.

"Of course not."

He rested on his elbows, framing her face with his forearms. "You are so beautiful."

She smiled and shifted her hips, eliciting a groan from him. Knowing she could cause a noise like that to leave his lips had her burning again for him. Reaching up, she placed a kiss on his pulse point, causing his breath to hitch. Wanting to hear that hitch again, she tentatively darted her tongue out to flick his earlobe before bring her lips around it.

The breath left his chest in a _whoosh_ and he moaned into the pillow next to her. As her lips worked their way down his neck, her hands worked their way down his torso, stopping to tickle the line just above the elastic band of his boxers.

Without warning, she flipped them over and straddled him again, rolling her hips against him. His eyes rolled back into his head and he groaned, gripping her hips. She leaned down so they were practically nose to nose, eye to eye, and did it again. She silenced his moan with her mouth and guided his hands to her chest again. It was such an intimate moment that another tear threatened to fall down her face. She had no idea what she was doing, but he was her guide; she used the noises he made as a map, telling her what to do next.

Her hand dipped down towards his boxers again but he gently grabbed her wrist before she got too far.

"Em, you don't have to - "

"I want to." And with that, her hand slipped into his boxers and took hold of him. His head hit the headboard with a _thud_, and his hands gripped her hair. He was biting his lip in an effort to keep quiet, but Emma was worried he was going to draw blood.

"Is this okay? Am I doing it right?"

"God," he choked out. "It's more than okay." He brought her face to his for a tender kiss and she picked up the pace causing him to moan against her lips. "Em… Em, you either have to stop or I'm gonna…"

She kissed him again and whispered in his ear. "It's okay. Let go."

With a groan and a desperate kiss, he came in his boxers. They sat still for a few minutes, Will leaning against the headboard, Emma in his lap, her hand still in his boxers, as they both panted.

"Was that okay?" The timidity of her voice completely contrasted with the confident woman she had been not two minutes ago.

"Are you kidding?" Will chuckled. "Were you not paying attention? You just blew my mind." Emma laughed and Will kissed her. "Literally, blew my mind. I think there are still a few circuits out."

Emma pulled her hand from his boxers, a little unsure as to what to do.

"Go wash your hand." He smiled and she grinned.

"We are definitely doing laundry when we get home," she replied, heading towards the bathroom.

When she returned, Will had discarded his boxers and cleaned up, searching for a fresh pair to sleep in. It was the first time she was seeing him naked – well, seeing _any_ man naked save for some rated R movies – and the sight didn't freak her out as much as she though it would. He really was beautiful.

"Oh. Hi," he said, standing there in all his glory, a pair of boxers in hand.

"Hi," she replied well aware that she was only in a pair of panties. "I don't think you should put those on."

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "No?'

"No." And with that one word answer, she slid her underwear off and stood before him. His eyes roamed her and she felt shy under his scrutiny before reminding herself of what he had just done to her. From that perspective, any shyness over nudity seemed a bit silly.

She pulled the covers back and crawled into bed, holding her hand out to him. He joined her, pulling her close, skin against skin. She decided in that moment that pajamas were overrated.

"Em?"

"Yeah?" She ran her fingers through the hair scattered across his chest.

"Before… you said '_We_'re doing laundry when _we_ get home."

"Yeah. I did." She had a feeling she knew where he was going with the conversation, but she didn't dare voice her suspicions.

"Em?'

"Yeah?"

"Move in with me?"

She lifted her head from his chest and looked him in the eye. He looked more nervous about asking her to move in with him than he did about asking her to marry him. Well, of course he was nervous, given her track record. In the split second it took her to formulate her answer, she ran over the idea in her head. She hated sleeping without him. They spent most of their free time together anyway. Sure he wasn't as clean as she was but honestly, who was? The answer left her lips without a second thought.

"Yes."

A smile exploded across his face and he held her tighter. She laughed into his skin, her warm breath tickling across his stomach, causing him to laugh as well.

"I love you," he said, placing a kiss on her forehead. "So much."

"I love you too."

They were quiet for a moment, relishing the feeling of skin against skin and swimming in thoughts of shared beds, shared towels, and shared mugs.

After a minute, Emma pulled away again. "Should we really be sleeping like this?" she asked, images of a screaming four-year-old coming to mind.

"Door's locked," he murmured into her hair.

That was good enough for her.

They headed home the next day, with Charlotte waiving exuberantly from Jack's arms on the front porch.

Emma used the car ride to think about moving plans. She wasn't too broken up about leaving her apartment. She had kept it so sterile over the years, it was hard to connect with it – hard to form an attachment. Will's apartment was warm, lived in. Sure, it held bad memories. She had endured most standing beside him, but as he had said earlier, they were going to build new ones.

They had stopped by Emma's apartment first to grab a few things and that night Emma began moving into the space that Terri has deserted. The drawers and the empty half of the closet had never been occupied since she left. Will had no need of them and, in the beginning, he didn't want to be mocked by their emptiness. But Emma filled that void, in the closet and in his heart.

Though exhaustion prevented anything from happening, they slept naked again that night, causing Emma to seriously consider instilling a "No Clothes" policy in the bedroom.

The morning routine was becoming more solid with less stumbling. Emma would wake and shower, kissing Will where he sat at the kitchen table reading the paper on her way back to the bedroom to dress. Then Will would shower and she would dry her hair as he sang behind the shower curtain. He'd fastened all her hard to reach zippers and she'd button his easy to reach shirt, just because she liked to.

By now, it was common knowledge that Mr. Schuester and Miss Pillsbury were engaged to be married.

The glee kids had begun calling her Mrs. Schue, mostly behind her back but habit had caused an occasional slip in her presence. Overhearing herself referred to as Will's wife caused a warm glow to creep up through her body and she double-checked throughout the day that the notebook tattooed with mentions of "Emma Schuester" inked indelibly in its pages was hidden safely in her desk drawer.

She'd see his smile through the window of her office and she'd be in a good mood for at least an hour, or until her next appointment. He'd pass her in the hall, gently brushing his fingers across her knuckles and it was all she could do to keep her knees from buckling.

She had never wanted anyone more than she wanted William Schuester and it was time she let him know.

She walked into his classroom during the five-minute break between classes to find him hunched over his desk, circling potential quiz questions from a Spanish II workbook.

Leaning over until her lips warmed his ear and her breasts grazed his shoulder, she whispered two words that wiped the look of concentration clear off his face.

"I'm ready."

He turned his head and she was so close, their noses brushed. She stared into his eyes so there was no mistaking her meaning and when she watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed, she knew he understood.

In fact, he understood so well, he didn't even blink when the deafening bell rang signaling next period.


	18. Satisfactions

**My lovelies, the sauce has gone from salsa to Tabasco, so brace yourselves for some M-rated goodness. x**

_Satisfactions_

The look on Will's face as he sat across from her at lunch had Emma giggling into her sandwich. It alternated from lust to absolutely dumbfounded and Emma felt the need to torture him even more by not acknowledging his attempts to catch her attention, instead focusing on Shannon's strategy for the upcoming game.

"That's really interesting," Emma said, nodding along as Shannon demonstrated her play with condiments on the table. "So wait, is the ketchup the quarterback?"

Will coughed and shifted in his seat as he tried to keep up with the conversation. It was obvious to Emma that he was failing. She bit her lip and leaned her elbow on the table, more engrossed in the arrangement of the mustard and the horseradish than the gaze that bored a hole through her head from across the table.

His knee nudged hers and she gave a subtle wink in his direction. His strangled breath was proof that he was paying attention.

The bell rang and she stood, clearing her Tupperware from the table. Will joined her abruptly, causing his chair to topple backwards. His face flushed as he righted it and she brushed by him, deftly running her hand across his chest.

"William."

"Good God, woman, you're trying to kill me," he whispered back.

"Not kill, just wound."

And with that, she placed a kiss on his cheek and sauntered out of the lounge, not even bothering to make sure his gaze followed her. She knew it did.

Though her show during lunch had been meant to rile him up, she didn't anticipate how her toying would affect her. She fidgeted in anticipation of that evening. Would she be able to restrain herself and not jump him the moment they entered the apartment? Should she try to do something special? Cook? Possibly. Clean? That was a given. Would he do something to make it special? Wouldn't it be special no matter? The thoughts zoomed through her head faster than she could comprehend them.

Before she knew it, Will was stumbling through the door of her office before the final bell had even finished ringing. She burst out laughing before the noise was swallowed in the kiss he planted on her mouth.

"Will," she managed in between kisses, "there are children in the hall."

"I don't care," he breathlessly whispered.

"We're going to scar them and the only person they can talk to is me, which is going to make for a very awkward conversation."

He pulled away with a dramatic sigh. "Fine. But I'm only doing it for the kids."

"Teacher of the year," she teased, brushing her finger across his chin dimple and turning to gather her belongings. "So, what did you want to do tonight?" she asked, suggestively raising her eyebrow.

His features softened and he pulled her to him. "Let's just go home, make dinner, and see where the night takes us."

His words eased the nagging worry in her mind. The pressure to make her first time special was overshadowing any excitement she had about it. Will took her bag from her, wrapping his free arm around her, and she leaned into his embrace.

The school had quieted and whatever students were left shot them wistful glances as they meandered down the hall. She had used her free period to let her landlord know that she wouldn't be renewing her lease and the thought of moving in with Will had her stomach flipping. She burrowed her face into his shoulder and inhaled the familiar scent. His vest was soft against her cheek and she sighed contentedly.

Their trip to the grocery store was amusing to say the least. Will insisted on sending her off to get staples like coffee, tea, soy milk and eggs while he disappeared into the aisles with an agreement to meet by the apples in ten minutes. When she bumped into him in the bread aisle, he shooed her away under a veil of secrecy.

"Will, what is going - " she had tried to ask, but he cut her off.

"It's a surprise," he said, hiding the basket and backing away down the aisle.

"What happened to seeing where the night takes us?" She grinned.

"The night is taking some direction from my stomach."

"Will - " she started warningly.

"Em, please let me do this."

Her heart swelled at the earnestness in his voice. "Okay."

"Okay." He grinned. "Now go. I'll see you at the apples in…" he glanced at his watch, "five minutes."

Will sent Emma to make sure the grocery store was still stocking only the freshest fruits and vegetables while he checked out and safely hid the dinner ingredients in brown paper bags. By the time she ensured that there were no moldy oranges or soggy spinach lurking in the produce section, Will was waiting by the door, arms laden down with bags.

The ride home was quiet but electrified. Will's hand rested on Emma's bare knee – a harmless enough gesture that sent a charge up her thigh. She tried to keep her breathing under control, letting only shallow breaths escape her lips when all she really wanted to do was hyperventilate uninhibited.

Will traced tiny circles around her kneecap, the pads of his fingers calloused from piano keys and guitar picks. Goosebumps bloomed on her legs and she fiddled with the radio dial in an effort to give her mind something to focus on other than the beautiful man sitting next to her.

Lucky for Emma, they reached the apartment before she could find a station that was not static or on a commercial. Will smiled at her knowingly and she blushed, escaping the car before she jumped over the center console and reclined the driver's seat in a most inappropriate manner.

The apartment smelled like coffee and Will's cologne. It was a comforting, familiar scent that Emma tried to commit to memory every time she entered, because once she moved in, the smell would never be the same. Her perfume and various cleaning products would mingle with his cologne and completely overwhelmed the coffee.

Her musings her interrupted as Will pulled out a stool from the closet and set it next to the counter.

"Sit."

She did as she was told and watched as he poured a glass of white wine for her and went about making dinner.

"Are you sure I can't help?"

"Positive," he replied, bent over the cutting board, slicing tomatoes.

Emma couldn't help but watch the way his back muscles rippled under his thin oxford shirt. Music brought her out of her admiration and she realized that he had turned on the CD player and Frank Sinatra filtered through the kitchen.

"I called my landlord."

The chopping stopped. "And?" 

"Told him I'm moving out."

His smile was infectious and she grinned until her face hurt.

"I love you."

"I love you, too," she whispered back. With a final smile, he turned and continued to mix the pasta sauce together in the bowl.

The itch to be near him overwhelmed her and she walked up behind him, wrapping her arms around his torso and pressing her chest against his back. Her hands linked across his stomach and she felt, rather than heard, his hitch of breath in the contraction of his abdominal muscles.

He turned in her arms and placed his hands on her waist and she leaned into his embrace. She had just settled her ear against his chest when he unexpectedly lifted her and set her on the counter behind him. She let out an undignified yelp, which turned into a giggle as he closed the distance between them.

His forehead rested against hers and her heart hammered against her sternum as his hands ghosted up her thighs and gently pushed her skirt up, just high enough so he could step between her knees.

"You're going to be the death of me," he whispered.

Warmth shot from her chest to her core and she let a gasp escape as she wrapped her legs around him and dug her heels into the back of his knees. He gently kissed her nose and her chin before she placed her palms on either side of his face and brought him to her lips.

He moaned into her mouth and she used the opportunity to dart her tongue out and run it along his bottom lip. His grip on her hips tightened and the thrill of having that effect on him made her bolder. Threading her fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck, she pulled him tighter and scooted her hips closer to his. He got her meaning and pulled her flush against him as both of their moans cut through Frank's rendition of _Witchcraft_.

Such an apt song, Emma thought hazily. She was under his spell, just as he was under hers. It was an incredibly erotic experience for Emma, being in Will's kitchen, on his counter, with him pressed in between her legs.

"Em… Em," Will started.

"Hm?" she managed, before diving back in for another kiss.

"If we don't stop," he panted, "not that I want to, but…" He was interrupted by her kiss, "if we don't soon, dinner won't get made."

"I'm not hungry." She pulled away, gently taking his lower lip with her. "Not for food, anyway."

He pounced on her before she finished her last breath and she laughed in surprise. She could feel the effect she was having on him, and her fingers danced down his back before finding purchase in his back pockets. She gave him a little squeeze for good measure and he bucked into her. They kissed with renewed vigor and his hands ran over her ribcage, pausing just below her bra.

The need to feel his hands on her was overwhelming and she took hold of his palms and guided them to her breasts. As he gently massage her through her shirt, her head fell back with a _thunk_ against the cabinet and she blindly reached above her head for something stable to hold onto. Will took that opportunity to practically devour her exposed neck, sucking on her pulse point and nipping at her earlobe.

"Will." It was half plea, half moan.

"Emma." It was more prayer than declaration.

She had lost all sense of her surroundings, only aware of the electric hum that coursed through her veins, turning her body from skin and bones to fire and rushing blood.

So blissfully ignorant was she that when her hand released the grip it hand on the cabinet behind her, it crashed down to the counter, knocking the bowl full of pasta sauce down Will's side.

His lips released hers causing everything to freeze for what could only have been a second or two but felt like eternity when his warmth was no longer pressed up against her.

Fully assessing the damage that had been done, her hand flew to her mouth and she shook her head.

"Oh Will, I'm so sorry."

He stepped away from her in an effort to not get pasta sauce on her green skirt and glance down at his body, which was dripping in red.

Her continued apologies were interrupted when he doubled over in a fit of laughter.

"What's so funny? I just ruined dinner!"

He gestured to the counter. "I'm pretty sure that only we could be this clumsy."

Emma turned and sure enough, they had managed to knock over a bag of flour, a container of salt, and scatter some cloves of garlic.

"Oh." She bit her lip and turned back to him. "Oops."

He continued to laugh. "Oops is right. And as for your claim that you just ruined dinner…" he stepped forward and placed a kiss to her lips, managing to keep his body a safe distance away from her, "I really don't think it was going to get made in the first place." His eyes darkened. "Do you?"

Feeling more than a little ready to get incredibly dirty, Emma scooped some flour in her hand and threw it at him.

"Hey!" He laughed and coughed, shaking the flour from his head, yet failing to get it out of his curls. The move had the opposite effect of what Emma intended. Instead of cooling herself down, she got a glimpse of what Will looked like with a little gray in his hair and the image had her greatly looking forward to middle age.

He placed his hands on her knees. "You, hold that thought, while I go rinse this off."

She giggled at the mess they had made and watched him gingerly walk to the bathroom, both in an effort to not drip pasta sauce all over the place and to ease the uncomfortable tightness of his jeans. Emma blushed at the thought.

She hopped down from the counter and stumbled, her legs a little wobbly from their previous activities. Pulling out some paper towels and some surface cleaner, she went to work mopping up the trail of pasta sauce Will had dripped from the kitchen to the bathroom.

The sound of water and the familiar scrape of shower curtain rings across the bar made Emma realize that Will was, in fact, naked on the other side of the wooden door and she paused in her cleaning to remind herself to breathe.

She had always felt more comfortable with Will – more comfortable than being in her own skin, even – but as her clandestine feelings for him grew over the years, she never knew that she would trust him as implicitly as she did now. He could hold her life in his hands, and she knew he would handle it only with the utmost care.

A feeling of peace washed over her and she let the sodden paper towel drop from her fingers. As she quietly opened the bathroom door, she unbuttoned her blouse with one hand and slipped it off under the cover of steam. Will blissfully hummed on the other side of the curtain, unaware that Emma was disrobing a mere three feet from him, separated only by a sheet of plastic purchased on sale at Sheets N' Things.

The heat from the shower eased the shaking in her limbs. She didn't know if her knees were knocking out of cold or anxiety and, deciding it was a little bit of both, she decided to remedy the situation immediately.

She pulled the curtain aside and Will spun around so abruptly, he had to grab onto the wall to keep his balance in the slippery tub. His jaw was dropped in question as shampoo suds slowly made their way down his face from his hair and Emma wished she had a camera because he looked ridiculously adorable.

Without a word, she stepped in next to him and raised her hands to continue to massage the shampoo into his hair, before placing her hands on his chest and backing him up into the spray to wash it out.

He closed his eyes as water ran down his face and he leaned into her touch as she threaded her fingers through his hair. When all of the shampoo had been rinsed out, he took the bottle and poured a little into his hands, lathered them up, and massaged it into her hair. His large hands felt good against her scalp and she held onto his shoulders for support.

They both kept silent, as if a mutual agreement had been made that this moment was too sacred to break.

He spun her around and pulled her back flush against his chest as the shampoo made its way down her neck, over her chest, and beyond their entwined arms, which wrapped around her waist. He placed kisses across her shoulders and against the back of her neck, causing her to shiver even under the constant stream of hot water. Her head leaned back against his shoulder, giving him more access as his hands trailed up her stomach and over her breasts again.

Her breath caught in her throat and her hands reached behind her to grip his hips. She blindly traced the sharp lines of his hipbones and the firm muscles of his thighs as his arousal pressed into her back.

As he pinched her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, her hand reached back and gripped his curls, a soft moan echoing off the tiles. He spun her in his arms and captured her mouth in a kiss as he picked her up and pressed her against the tile. The shock of the cold tiles on her back and his warm body on her front had her gasping into his mouth and she wrapped her legs around him in an effort to be as close to his body as humanly possible.

Her taut nipples caught on his chest and she clung tightly to him as he kissed a searing trail down her neck. Her hand boldly dipped between them and she ran her fingers across his length, earning a groan from him.

Before she could attempt to coax that sound from him again, he had lowered her to the floor and shut the water off, stepping out of the shower and gathering her in his arms again.

The cold air was a shock and she shivered in his arms as he carried her the short distance from the bathroom to the bedroom. Setting her down, he pulled a blanket from the chair and laid it out on the bed, before grabbing a towel and gently lowering her to the bed.

She stared at him as he stood over her, water glistening across his bare body. The blanket was soft and warm against her back and she was grateful he had placed it down first. He took the towel in his right hand and her ankle in his left and gently ran it along her calf and up her thigh, wiping up all remnants of water that dotted her skin. Goosebumps blossomed across her skin again, but not because she was cold.

He continued this ritual, worshipping every part of her body until she was dry save for her hair, and she felt the need to return the favor. She sat up and took the towel from his hands, running it across his chest, over his arms and down his legs. He stood stoically, watching every emotion flit across her face. When she was done, she let the towel drop to the floor, not caring where it landed, and pulled him to the bed with her.

Her heart was beating so rapidly, she felt as though she had just run a marathon. His body covered hers and she was grateful for the heat radiating off of him. She captured his lips in a kiss, trailing her lips across his jaw and to his ear.

"I want you," she whispered. She felt him shiver above her.

"I want you, too." His hand slid down her thigh to the back of her knee and he hitched it up over his waist. The new angle caused a bolt of arousal to shoot through her and she lifted her hips off the bed to meet his. He moaned and pressed against her, causing her to fist the sheets in her hand.

His hand traced a pattern on the back of her knee, before sliding it in between them and pressing against her core. She moaned into his mouth and urged him to do it again, which he did eagerly. Her breath was coming out in pants as he slipped a finger inside of her. She gripped his shoulders as her hips bucked off the bed in an effort to make more contact. He slipped another finger inside her and her nails dug into his skin.

"God, Will," she breathed. "Touch me."

He smiled against her neck. "I am."

"More."

He pulled away and looked into her eyes, the silent question lingering between them. No words were need, but she nodded anyway, her way of assuring him that she had never wanted anything more in her life.

His warmth disappeared as he reached over and pulled a condom out of the nightstand drawer. He ripped it open with his teeth and she saw that she wasn't the only one shaking.

She used the moment of distraction to grip his length in her hand. He gasped at the unexpected contact and dropped the condom, holding onto her shoulders for support.

"Em…" It was as if the nickname was ripped from his mouth and he panted as she pumped him up and down. Using her free hand, she picked up the condom from where it had fallen and, sensing her hesitation, he guided her hands as she rolled it on him. She settled back against the pillows with Will hovering over her. She could feel him at her entrance and, as suddenly as a thunderstorm, she was overwhelmed with emotion.

"Will?" Her throat was tight and she placed a hand to his cheek. "It's always been you."

She watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed against the emotion and placed a gentle kiss to her lips.

"I love you, Emma."

"I love you too."

He threaded his fingers through hers and pressed her hand into the pillow as he slowly slid into her. He paused as he felt resistance, and she closed her eyes and nodded, urging him forward. Pressing his forehead against hers, he gripped her hand and pushed all the way into her and she let out a strangled noise of pain as tears clouded her eyes.

"It's okay, sweetheart. I've got you," he whispered over and over in her ear.

The pain was bad, but not awful. More uncomfortable than anything else, and she felt him shake as he held himself still above her. She was unbelievably grateful for his patience.

"Just give me a second," she squeaked.

He kissed her on her nose. "I won't move 'til you tell me."

Her heart swelled. She knew how difficult that was for him. She shifted her hips and he groaned. The pain dissipated and she did it again as he moaned into her neck.

"God, Emma."

"You can move now," she whispered. He locked eyes with her as he slowly pulled out before pressing back in again.

_Whoa._ Emma's eyes rolled to the back of her head at the sudden feeling of bliss that exploded in her lower abdomen.

"Do it again," she urged. He smiled and thrust into her with a little more force, earning a moan. "Oh, Will…"

His pace was slow and steady, and they studied the emotions that flicked across each other's features. His forehead was creased in concentration and Emma used her free hand that wasn't interlocked with Will's to trace across his eyebrow. He turned his head and kissed her palm, a gesture she was rapidly falling in love with.

Will began to grunt with every well-timed thrust and Emma panted as their rhythm picked up.

"Oh my god…" The muscles in Emma's stomach began to twist and Will's hips faltered as she tightened around him. "Will…" her loud moan echoed off the walls and her legs automatically clamped around his waist. Lights popped behind her eyes and his hips continued to thrust unsteadily as he worked to hold out until she came down from her high. As her breathy moans quieted, he placed a frantic kiss on her lips.

"Oh god, Em," he groaned before thrusting one last time and stilling, muscles taut as he emptied himself into her. He collapsed onto her, each panting into the other's shoulder. Emma's body was slick with a slight sheen of sweat and she could feel a drip fall from Will's temple onto her collarbone, but she didn't mind. In fact, she wrapped her arms and legs around him and held him closer, never ever wanting him to separate himself from her.

He made a move to roll to the side, but she grabbed him. "Stay."

He nodded and placed a kiss to the side of her neck. "You were amazing."

"Let's do it again," she giggled.

He laughed and pulled away just far enough to see her face. "Give me a minute." He pressed his forehead against hers, their chests rising and falling in sync. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

She shook her head. "You rocked my world."

He laughed again and kissed her. "Consider mine equally rocked."

They stayed like that for a while, each studying the other. Emma couldn't believe what she had been missing out on all this time, but she knew that it never would have been as amazing had Will not been her first. Her only.

Eventually, he rolled off of her and she immediately missed his warmth. He asked if she wanted to shower and she shocked even herself by shaking her head and burrowing into his shoulder. He pulled the blanket around them

"Thank you," she whispered into his chest.

"No," he said, kissing her head. "Thank _you_."

With his arms safely around her and her body sufficiently sated and tired, she drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

At 3 am, she gave Will a rather R-rated wake up call, demanding round two that he had promised her. He was more than happy to comply. The morning wake-up wasn't much different except she was on the receiving end and she determined in that moment that alarm clocks were completely overrated.

Needless to say, mornings got a lot more interesting and the routines got a little more disorganized. His five and her thirty-five minute showers turned into a forty-minute shared shower, which would have gone longer had the hot water not run out. She would make tea wearing his shirt and only his shirt while he collected the paper from the front door in only his boxers, sometimes not even that. They had had a few close calls with the neighbors, which no doubt would have resulted in a charge of indecent exposure.

Before she knew it, it was the end of the month and she was watching Will place her final box in the bedroom. Their bedroom. She walked up behind him and pushed him on the bed, not caring that his shirt was damp with sweat or that he was dusty from the dozens of boxes he had moved. She stripped him and had her way with him, before he could even put up a word of protest. Not that he would have.

She was getting used to this new life. Her things assimilated flawlessly with Will's. They took turns cooking, picking movies, and branching out their sex lives. Will had insisted they christen the couch when Emma's final box was unpacked, but it was Will's turn to be surprised when he returned from the bathroom to find her sitting on said couch wearing nothing but his tie.

She grinned as she remembered that evening in great detail, causing the student sitting across from her desk to give her an odd look.

"Miss Pillsbury?"

"Hm? What?"

"Is Friday okay? Third period?'

_Friday. _Emma shook her head and glanced at her desk calendar. Will was almost as distracting at work as he was at home.

"Friday's perfect," she said, penciling in the student's appointment.

As her eyes drifted over her movie date with Will that Saturday, a truth hit her like a truck on a three-lane highway, shattering the blissful ignorance of her Wednesday afternoon.

She was late.


	19. Crises

_Crises_

She certainly didn't need a mirror to tell her how pale she had gotten. All she could focus on were the weeks of interrupted sexual bliss that mocked her from the organized desk calendar. There was no telltale red star in the corner of any of the daily blocks, a mark she made to keep track of her cycle. In fact, if her math served her correctly, she should have gotten her period almost two weeks ago.

Blood roared in her ears and the lack of oxygen to her brain was making her woozy. With a reminder to breathe, she shakily stood and clutched the desk for support as she stumbled towards the bathroom and locked the door just before emptying the contents of her stomach into the nearest toilet.

Her stomach twisted and she gasped as her insides rebelled against her, ringing her out until there was nothing left. The words she had said to him on their disastrous first date almost a year ago came back to haunt her: _too much, too fast. Too much, too fast._

She reached a shaky hand up and flushed, leaning her back against the door and wiping her mouth with some toilet paper. She just couldn't be pregnant. She and Will had only been sleeping together for a month. Her mother's words took the inopportune moment to come back and taunt her. So often had she heard her mother tell her brother it only took one time, one slip in judgment, for a life-altering mistake. She usually gave him this pep talk moments before he was about to walk out the door on a date, in an effort to frighten him into celibacy. Emma, however, never needed such a talk.

She let her clammy forehead drop against her folded arms and she took deep shuddering breaths to quell the hurricane in her stomach. When she was confident she could get up without dry-heaving again, she braced her hand on the graffiti-ed wall and stood up on wobbly legs.

She hated vomit and she hated public restrooms, but neither seemed to register as the thought of pregnancy and the mess it entailed consumed her mind. Her appearance left something to be desired. Her eyes were red and puffy, the mascara tracks down her cheeks betraying the tears she was working hard to suppress.

Will would know something was wrong the moment she saw him. _Will. _She gasped and held onto the counter as another wave of nausea engulfed her. How was she going to tell him? He had wanted this for so long… would he want it now? It was too soon. Too fast. Even if he was ready, she wasn't. Would he resent her for it?

Emma shook her head and tried to push all thoughts of Will out of her mind, but it proved fruitless because all she could think about was the very real possibility that she was carrying a part of Will around inside her. Her hand automatically pressed to her abdomen and she shocked herself by how natural it felt.

Sure, she had imagined having kids with him – she even teased him about their future children – but never had it felt as real as it did in that moment. Dealing with it in the distant future, after a wedding and some time to prepare financially and emotionally was one thing, but having to deal with it _now_, was a can of worms she was in no way prepared to open.

With a final deep breath, she erased the evidence with a cold paper towel and attempted to gather enough mental strength to survive the rest of the day. Thankfully, the hallways were empty since the school was only fifteen minutes into fourth period.

Emma tried to clear the fog in her brain enough to remember Will's schedule. Was he in Spanish now? He didn't have Glee until after lunch.

Her question was answered when she turned the corner into her office to find him perched on her desk, anxiously looking through the glass walls into the hallway. At her appearance, he hopped off and made it way over to her.

"Hey, there you are."

"Hi." She wished her voice sounded stronger.

"You okay?" he asked, upon closer inspection. "You're really pale." He ran his hands up and down her arms and guided her into her chair.

"I'm okay. Just wasn't feeling well." She glued what she hoped was an assured smile on her face.

"Maybe you should go home." He pressed his hand to her head and she leaned into his touch.

"I'm okay. How are you?" she asked, in an effort to deflect his attention.

He shrugged. "Eh, I've never been a fan of Wednesdays."

"Me neither," she muttered.

As he launched into a story about one of his sophomore students, she found it harder and harder to look him in the eye. All she saw was his excitement and inevitable heartbreak from the last time he thought he was going to be a father. What if she destroyed him just as Terri did? What if she didn't live up to his expectations? She knew it was a ridiculous notion, but her mind wasn't exactly keeping itself grounded.

At some point Will's voice entered her stream of consciousness and she focused on his excited face again.

"Linda from the Math department is back from maternity leave. She brought the baby in with her. He's adorable, you should see him."

Emma could feel the bile rising in her throat and she stood up so abruptly, her chair went rolling back into the bookcase with a distinctive slam.

"Whoa, Em." Will held his arms out, as if braced to catch her at a moment's notice. He was always braced to catch her and the thought made her heart break.

"You know what? Maybe I will go home."

Will's face was all concern as he nodded. "Do you want me to drive you?"

She shook her head. "I'll be okay."

Will looked unconvinced and her heart pounded against her chest. She hated lying to him, but she needed to get of there. The walls were closing in and the floor was starting to spin. He helped her into her coat and it was all she could do to get him to not walk her down to Figgins' office.

"I'm really okay, Will." She tried to keep the hint of annoyance out of her voice, but the way his hands abruptly left her gave her the impression that she had failed.

"Okay." He sounded a little wounded. She spun and plastered a smile on her face as he placed a small kiss on her forehead. "Call me if you need anything."

Giving a final nod, she left him standing in the middle of her office, before making a quick dash to the bathroom to splash some water on her face and collect herself. With another coat of eye shadow and another swipe of lip-gloss, she braved the trek to the principal's office.

She had thought about taking the long way in an effort to avoid any unfortunate run-ins and, as she approached the faculty lounge, she certainly wished she had. Will stood in the middle of a crowd of teachers, mostly female, as they fawned over Linda from the Math department's new son.

The baby was in Will's arms and Emma's breath left her body as if she had just been sucker-punched. He was so tiny; Will cradled him on his forearm, with the baby's head in the crook of his elbow and his feet in Will's palm.

Will was trying to be polite and focus on what Linda from the Math department was saying, but his attention was inevitably stolen over and over again by the child in his arms. Emma didn't know if she wanted to laugh or cry, but the emotional turmoil was wreaking havoc on her stomach and she thought it best to make it to Figgins as soon as possible.

Before leaving, though, Emma took that final moment to memorize the look on Will's face. Depending on how he took the news, she didn't know when or if she'd get to see that look again.

With a promise to Figgins to not return until she was completely better, she made her way to the car and it took her three attempts to get her keys in the lock, her hand was shaking so badly. When she finally opened the door and slid into the driver's seat, her phone vibrated in her purse.

_Feel better. Love you. x_

Emma stared at the text and let the phone fall from her fingers to her lap. She couldn't do this. Her forehead collided with the steering wheel and a sob ripped from her throat. They were still figuring out who they were as a couple. They were supposed to have more time. They were supposed to do things in order. Marriage, _then_ babies. Oh God, her mother was going to kill her.

Her breath came out in harsh pants and she closed her eyes as she worked on easing her panic. It took her ten minutes to calm down enough to start the car and convince herself that she could drive home without veering off the road. Unfortunately, her journey took her right by the pharmacy and, as if the car had a mind of its own, she found herself turning into the parking lot and idling the car.

There was only one way to be sure. If would do her no good to sit there and stew in her panic if there was nothing to fuss about. With a deep breathe, she opened the door and made her way into the pharmacy, constantly looking around to see if she recognized anyone. The last thing she wanted to do was have a chat in the cold and flu aisle about the weather.

Granted, cold and flu was nothing compared the horrifically named aisle she found the pregnancy tests in: family planning. Relegated to the back of the store next to the condoms, the ovulation testers, and KY gel. Emma shuddered. Too messy.

Glancing over her shoulder one more time, she felt as though she was buying stolen goods, like alcohol during the Prohibition. Grabbing the first box she could get her hand on, she made her way to the front of the store and shifted her weight from foot to foot as she waited in line behind an old woman sorting through her coupons.

She studied the young woman behind the counter: 20, bored, drained. Emma briefly wondered why the girl wasn't in school, but a flicker of recognition flashed in her mind and she remembered the same girl – 16, bright, happy – walking down the halls of McKinley High not all that long ago.

She had gotten pregnant, but unlike Quinn, decided to keep the baby, which was probably how she ended up in the Lima pharmacy, barely glancing at her customers as she blindly ran the barcodes over the scanner. Emma could probably make off with half of the cleaning aisle before the girl even took notice.

Emma wasted no time getting out of the store and back in her car, where she broke at least three traffic violations in an effort to get home as soon as possible.

The apartment was quiet, a rarity when two people with similar schedules occupied it. She tossed the bag with the box on the dresser and collapsed on the bed, curling up into a ball and fisting the comforter in her hand. She brought Will's pillow to her face and inhaled, taking comfort in the familiar scent. Her tears tracked mascara down her cheeks and for once she didn't care what mark they made.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she registered a door opening and light footsteps crossing the carpet.

She cracked her eye open to find the sun low in the sky and she figured she must have slept for at least three hours. School would now be over. Will settled in next to her on the bed, and she felt kind of bad for holding his pillow hostage in her arms, but he spooned her from behind without complaint. She kept her breathing steady and closed her eyes once again, trying to stave off the inevitable charade she'd have to put up as she assured him that everything was all right.

He placed a gentle kiss to the back of her neck and she couldn't help but smile.

"Hi," she whispered.

"Hi," he responded into her hair. "How are you feeling?"

"Better."

He tugged at her cardigan. "Looks like you barely made it home. Even your shoes are still on."

"I was tired."

"I can see that." She could hear the smile in his voice and her heart hurt. "Can I get you anything?" She shook her head and he rolled off the bed. "I'll let you rest."

She listened as he unbuttoned his shirt, normally a task reserved for her, and changed into a t-shirt. But she jumped when he gently took her ankle in his hand and undid the straps on her Mary Janes.

"There you go, Cinderella."

She grinned. "Thank you."

The door closed behind him and panic began to spread. She felt as though someone had dropped a cement block on her chest and she bolted upright in an effort to force air into her lungs. She couldn't do this, she couldn't do this. Too much, too fast.

"Hey, baby, I was gonna make – Em?"

All she heard was the ringing in her ears so she had no idea that Will had opened the bedroom door and was silhouetted against the hall light. She continued to force air into her chest, but when she felt him sit next to her, she automatically scooted away from him.

"Em, what's wrong? Talk to me."

She couldn't bear to look at his wounded face. "Nothing," she gasped.

"You can barely breathe!"

"I'm fine!" she gritted out.

"No, you're not." He tried to take her hand and she stood from the bed, swaying when the room went out of focus.

"Jesus, Will, I said I'm fine!" She risked a glance over to him and immediately wished she hadn't. He sat on the edge of the bed, hurt clouding his eyes.

"I'll be in the kitchen if you need me."

She squinted her eyes as she waited for the inevitable door slam, but it never came. When she opened them again, he was gone. Her frustratingly caring ghost. And just like a ghost, he came back again, haunting her.

"Are you regretting moving in?" His voice was cautious, like he had no desire to know the answer to his question in case it was the one he didn't want to hear.

"No! Of course not! Can't I have a second to myself?" Her fear was making her irrational and her voice rose an octave. She wasn't being fair to him. He only wanted to help her and she was lashing out in every way possible. But perhaps that was her whole plan: to push him away so she could deal with her panic by herself and not hurt him. He had seen enough hurt in his life.

"You're not really sick are you?" It wasn't a question.

He continued to stare at her from the doorway and her heart broke. In her efforts to push him away to save him, she was hurting him anyway. The room was too small and she needed to get out of there so, shielding herself from the pain creasing his face, she brushed by him and into the sanctuary of the living room. He didn't follow.

Her hand automatically flew to her stomach again and she blamed it on her nausea and not some natural motherly instinct. Emma didn't think she had a maternal bone in her body, which was why pregnancy frightened her so much. Will had wanted this for so long and, if she was completely honest with herself, she wanted it too, but what if she didn't live up to expectations? To Will's? To her mother's? To hers?

Her breathing even out and she felt blood rush to her limbs again. She would be okay. They would be okay. Will didn't have expectations.

"Emma?"

Her heart stopped as she turned to find Will's face a blank slate – no pain, no hurt – as he stared at her with hollow eyes.

And in his hand was the object of her distress: a harmless looking pale pink box, guaranteeing "unsurpassed accuracy."

"What is this?"


	20. Splinters

_Splinters_

"Emma? Is this… Are you…?" Words failed him.

In his eyes, she could see the hurt she had inflicted lingering with the hope he was trying desperately to suppress. It was all too much and she collapsed right there on the floor.

"Oh God, Will, I don't know."

He was at her side in a second, pulling her into his lap and gently rocking her back and forth as she sobbed into his shirt.

"It's okay, baby. It's okay."

She shook her head and any words she might have wanted to say were drowned out by the sobs that choked her throat.

"Shhh. I've got you, sweetheart." His palm was warm and firm against her lower back, her anchor, as his other arm wrapped around her and secured her to his chest. Pain gripped her heart nearly as hard as she gripped him.

"I'm so sorry," she hiccupped. "I was awful to you."

"Don't worry about it, Em. Don't even think about it."

"I'm so scared."

"I know." He took her face in his hand and wiped her tears with his thumbs. "I know you are. But whatever the outcome, we can handle this. We'll do it together."

She dissolved into another fit of tears and buried her face into his shirt. He was so kind, so quick to forgive. Her insecurities had turned her into an emotional wreck and he took the brunt of her fears, bearing them well and without question.

"What made you buy the test?" he murmured quietly into her hair, as if speaking too loud would shatter her to pieces. In fact, it might have.

She pulled away and leaned her forehead against his chin. "I'm late."

"How late?"

"Almost two weeks. I was so happy, I didn't even notice." She pressed her ear to his chest and heard his heartbeat quicken. He was doing so well presenting a calm front, but he was betrayed by that which gave him life.

Neither said anything for a while. Emma wasn't sure how much time had passed, but her joints were getting stiff and she could only imagine how sore Will was, since she occupied his lap.

"Can we move to the couch?"

"Of course we can," he replied, kissing her on the head. She stood, stretching her hands above her head and yelping as Will scooped her up and sat down with her in his lap again. "You want to talk about it?"

She shook her head. "Not yet."

"Okay."

They settled into a comfortable silence again, their hearts beating in tandem. Emma's breathing had evened but her thoughts had yet to be that considerate. Questions and self doubt battled to reign supreme and Will's hand running comforting circles on her back was the only thing keeping her from ripping that pink box open before throwing it across the room in terror.

"Will?"

"Yes?" His breath was hot against her neck.

"If I am… would you – how would you feel?" She twisted his shirt collar between her fingers in an effort to distract herself from the heavy sigh that escaped his lips.

"You know how I'd feel, Em."

"No I don't, Will." She stood up and began to pace the living room. "We're not married. We're barely engaged! I'm not – I can't…" She attempted to inhale, but no air soothed her lungs.

"Em, Em…" Will stood and took hold of her wrists. "Breathe. In and out, come on, honey, breathe… That's it."

Emma took a deep breath and shuddered as it slowly escaped.

"I know it's soon, but a baby with you? You know I'd be ecstatic."

Emma bit her lip as tears blurred her vision. "I feel like a broken record, but you'd be a great father." She placed her thumb in his chin dimple, a gesture that was slowly becoming habit.

He took her palm and kissed it. "You'd be a great mother."

She snorted. "You clearly don't know me as well as you think you do."

"Of course I do." He took a step forward and ran his hand down her side. "I know you're ticklish right above your hip bone. Right… here." She giggled as he pinched her. "I know you love the smell, but hate the taste of coffee. I know you're secretly obsessed with February 29th because it only exists once every four years. And I know you're terrified of what lies in that box." He nodded towards the pregnancy test where it rested in the place he had dropped it in his rush to get to her. "You can deny it all you want, but I know you, Emma. And I know you're going to be a fantastic mother."

She wanted to thank him, to list all that she knew about him, to jump in his arms and laugh, but her emotions had robbed her of her voice and all she could offer was a nod and a smile.

"You want to go take a test?"

Emma wiped her cheeks and stared into Will's eyes. He was still guarded, still cautious to let his heart feel what his mind wouldn't believe. She nodded and headed for the kitchen.

"Em, what are you doing?"

"Well, I know that taking a test involves peeing on a stick and, though I'm trying very hard to not think about that aspect at the moment, I do realize it will be quite difficult seeing as I've had nothing to drink all day and I spent the majority of the morning emptying what liquids I did have."

Will raised his eyebrows. "Okay then. Go chug some water."

Emma disappeared into the kitchen and filled a glass of water, which she immediately downed and refilled.

"Easy, lady. You'll make yourself sick." He took the glass from her hand and set it on the counter. "We don't have to do the test now."

"But… don't you want to know?"

"Of course I do." He brushed a piece of hair out of her face. "But right now, you're my first priority."

They sat across from each other at the kitchen table as she emptied glass after glass and Will stood to refill them. They were silent, Emma observing the condensation on the cup in her hand and Will observing the emotions that flickered across her face. But every time he left to get her more to drink, he would return and slide his knee next to hers, just to let her know he was there.

"I don't think I can fit another drop inside me… And I have to pee."

"Mission accomplished." He took the glass and put it in the sink, before holding his hand out to her.

She took it and gripped it tight, as if she'd drown if she let go. He bent down and picked up the box, holding it out.

"You can do this." She took the box and he cupped her face in his hands. "I'll be out here when you're done." Placing a kiss on her cheek, he finally let go and she found her feet carrying her towards the bathroom as if of their own volition.

The bathroom was blindingly white under the harsh glare of the fluorescent bulb and she squinted as she tried to see herself in the mirror. Her eyes were still puffy from hours of crying, her cheeks were sunken, and her eyes were dark.

The box shook in her hand as she opened it and let the stick tumble out onto the counter. Reading the instructions was not easy with her unsteady fingers, but she eventually gleaned that she had to pee on the stick for 30 seconds and then wait. Three whole minutes.

She wanted to hold out, to give in to her fear, but the need to go to the bathroom was vastly outweighing her stubbornness by the minute. Sliding on a pair of her rubber gloves, which had been gathering dust in the cabinet under the sink, she sat down and held her breath.

A minute later, she placed the test on a napkin and scrubbed her hands. Having no desire to stand there and watch as it decided her fate, she quietly opened the door and headed back into the living room. Will had yet to notice her approach and she took the moment to study him. He sat on the couch with his elbows resting on his knees, just staring at the blank TV. Emotions flashed across his face too quickly for her to pin them down. She saw joy, anxiety, pain, and excitement – his was a face she could watch forever, but she cleared her throat, breaking him out of his trance.

"Hi," he whispered as he stood.

"Hi."

"Three minutes?" Of course he knew. He had done this before. Her chest ached at the memory.

"Two and a half."

He nodded and took her hand as they stood, staring at each other in the middle of the room for the remaining 150 seconds.

"It's time," he whispered.

"I know."

He smiled and squeezed her hand, beginning to lead her towards the door.

"Wait, wait." Emma tugged him back. "Before we do this, I want you to know that whatever happens in there, I love you. And if I get to keep a part of you with me constantly for the next nine months, I'll be more than okay with that."

He had been her rock all evening, but with those words, tears spilled over his eyes and ran tracks down his cheeks.

"I'll be more than okay with that, too," he choked out.

"Let's do this." She led him into the bathroom before pausing a second in the doorway – the final chance at escape should either of them want it. But with Will's hand in hers and his other palm on her back, she took step after step until she was standing over the seemingly benign test on the counter.

"What does it say?"

Emma's hands shook as she picked up the tissue that cradled her future. "Plus sign."

"You're pregnant." The words left Will's mouth on a _whoosh_ of air and Emma stared at the test to make sure her eyes weren't playing tricks on her.

"Oh my god," she whispered. Will's arms were immediately around her.

"You okay? Do you need to sit?"

Of course his first concern was for her and not for the fact that she just told him he was going to be a father. She shook her head and buried her face in his chest.

"I'm pregnant," she repeated, over and over again, under the impression that if she said the words enough, they'd actually be carved into her brain as fact.

"We're having a baby," Will whispered.

She could hear the tears in his voice and immediately it hit her. She was having a baby. _Will's _baby. And that made all the difference in the world. Sure, pregnancy was a terrifying thing, but what new mother isn't terrified when thinking about how a life will be totally dependent on hers? Emma had Will and that made every physical and emotional mountain conquerable.

"We're having a baby," she repeated, pulling away to meet Will's gaze. "We're having a baby!"

He finally allowed himself to laugh as he picked her up and she secured her arms and legs around his waist. They stood like that for a while – long enough for Emma to be impressed by the fact that Will was still holding her up – before she slowly slid down and pressed her ear against his heart.

"I love you so much, Em. Whatever you need, you tell me. If it's space, I'll give you space. If it's ice cream at 2am, I'll find it."

She pulled away and traced her finger down his cheek. "What if I just need you?"

"I can do that, too," he whispered.

Her stomach chose that moment to growl and both of their gazes were drawn to her abdomen.

"Apparently the baby needs you too," she laughed.

"I think the baby and mommy need food." Her stomach growled again and he laughed. "Can I…?" He trailed off and gestured to her stomach.

The simple query made her heart break. Terri had never let him touch her, never let him feel the baby move or kick because there was no baby. Emma made a vow then and there that, even if her hormones were driving her crazy and she wanted nothing more than to be left alone, she'd still call Will over whenever their child decided to move. _Their child._

"Of course you can," she whispered, taking his hand and gently placing his palm on her stomach. There was nothing to feel, of course, but Emma knew that Will took comfort in the fact that there would be. She watched him as he watched her stomach, already enraptured with something he couldn't see.

"You're done for." She grinned.

"Utterly and completely." He smiled and met her gaze meaningfully. "Then again, I was done for a very long time ago."

Dinner was practically a giddy affair. Will was rushing around, asking if she needed anything, offering to make whatever they had in the house or running to the store if they were out. It was sweet, but she gently had to remind him that it was unnecessary to hover. She wouldn't break.

They fell asleep quickly that night, despite their vain efforts to stay awake. It had been an emotionally draining day and by the time their heads hit the pillow, all conversation about waiting to tell their parents until the third month came to a halt. Evening, however, was bliss compared to morning.

Emma awoke at 5:13 and just about made it to the bathroom before emptying the previous night's dinner into the toilet. The tile was cold against her bare legs and she rested her head on her forearms in between bouts of nausea.

She felt him before she heard him, as he pulled the sweaty hair away from her neck and placed a kiss on her back.

"Go away."

"Why?"

"I don't want you to see me like this."

"Tough." He wet a washcloth and placed it at the back of her neck. She had to admit, it felt good, but she retched again before she could voice another protest.

Will leaned against the cabinet, face scruffy and eyes bleary from sleep. He was in nothing but his boxers and she leaned against his chest in an effort to warm up.

"If I could take it away, I would," he said, placing a kiss on her damp forehead.

"I know."

She wasn't sure how, but she woke up at 6:45 curled back up in their bed, Will snoring gently beside her. He was getting good at carrying her without waking her, something he had been practicing as she continuously fell asleep on the couch watching movies.

The alarm went off shortly thereafter and she giggled as Will's arm blindly flailed in the direction of the nightstand in an effort to shut the thing off.

Despite the early confrontation with the toilet, the morning routine was pretty standard after that. The only difference was that neither Emma nor Will could seem to stop smiling. Whether showering, shaving, or brushing their teeth – the last of which was difficult seeing as every time they smiled, toothpaste ran down their chins – it was as if someone had flicked some internal light switch and they glowed.

School was enjoyable, the students' problems actually tolerable, and Will came to visit her at every waking opportunity. The glee kids could tell something was up, seeing as both of their favorite teachers were walking around in a daze.

Their calculating glances, along with the morning sickness, continued for the rest of that week. Emma was building a pretty substantial list of what her stomach could handle and what it could not. It seemed like she was adding another item with every meal: eggs, fish (though she wasn't supposed to have it, the smell could send to the nearest bathroom in 2.4 seconds flat), dairy (obviously), and oddly enough, bananas. Will made sure that the apartment was clear of those items, as well as surprising her with _What to Expect When You're Expecting._ Emma had already blown through the sections on the first trimester.

By Friday, Quinn waltzed into her office, shut the door and sat down in the chair across from her desk.

"Can I help you, Quinn?"

"I believe congratulations are in order."

Emma's jaw dropped. "How did you - ?"

Quinn smiled. "You're glowing like a lighthouse. I know the look. And Mr. Schue hasn't stopped smiling for two days straight. His cheeks must be killing him."

Emma blushed and fiddled with the ring around her finger. "Please don't tell anyone. We only just found out on Wednesday."

"Of course not. Your secret's safe with me."

Emma could hear the sincerity in her voice and she backtracked on her prior judgments of the cheerleader. In the beginning, Quinn had been haughty, proud, and on top of the world. Then she tumbled and the real girl hiding behind the popular façade crept out. Quinn would come and sit in Emma's office when the verbal taunts got to be too much. She never complained about it, but Emma heard the malicious voices filter down the hall.

Quinn sat across from her, just as she had so many times during her pregnancy, and stared at the pamphlets behind Emma.

"Who _writes_ those?"

Emma laughed. "I have no idea. But it's a real ice-breaker."

"I bet." Quinn stood and tossed her ponytail over her shoulder. "I have to run to class, but… there are a lot of baby books that I don't plan on needing for a very long time, and I was wondering if you wanted them."

Emma placed her hand on her chest. "I'd love them. Thank you, Quinn."

Quinn gave Emma a final smile as she passed Will on her way out. "Hey, Papa Schue."

Will returned the greeting before the weight of her words hit him. He stopped and turned, but the cheerleader was already gone. 

"Did she just call me - "

"Yeah, she knows… Papa Schue."

"Funny."

"I think it's cute." Emma's hand flew to her stomach and Will rushed forward.

"You all right?"

"Residual morning sickness. I'm fine," she said, shooing him away.

Lunch was becoming brutal. It was as if Sue could smell the change in hormones, causing her verbal barbs to become that much more potent. By the time Will and Emma entered their apartment that evening, they both collapsed on the couch

"Owwwch." Emma let out a long moan and propped her feet up on the coffee table.

"Whassamatter?" Will squinted one eye open.

"Back hurts." Emma toed off her shoes and leaned back against the cushions. "I didn't think it was supposed to hurt until I was, like, six months along."

"Maybe the baby's impatient."

"Just like its father."

Will rolled his eyes. "Go change, I'll rub it."

"I knew I loved you."

Fifteen minutes later, Emma was bent over a crossword puzzle with Will rubbing her back as he caught up on ESPN highlights.

"What's a five letter word for 'tee-off?' I know you golf, I've seen the pictures. Plaid is not your color by the way."

Will snorted. "Drive. Or pitch. Whichever one fits."

"You're good. Drive it is," she said, penciling the answer in.

"My Dad's got you addicted to those things."

"I'm going to need something to do when I can't see my feet anymore. Oh, I scheduled a doctor's appointment next Tuesday. Not with Dr. Wu," she immediately interjected, seeing the fire in his eyes, "The other one… Will you come?"

His features softened and he took her hand. "Of course I'll come. I'll always come."

"Good. 3:00, then."

"3:00," he confirmed.

Will whipped together some pasta, but Emma was so uncomfortable, she could barely eat half of it.

They settled into bed, still drained from the week, as Will hooked up the heating pad and laid it over Emma's lower back.

"Will you sing to her? Or him?"

He chuckled and she rose and fell with the rumblings in his chest. "I think that's a given."

"I'm glad. I like it when you sing."

He began to hum a familiar tune from some distant movie from her childhood and she drifted off in the warm embrace of the father of her child.

But it was a fitful sleep and, by the middle of the night, Emma's back pain had gone from a steady throb to a sharp ache. She kept shifting in an effort to get comfortable, but something kept jerking her awake. Unable to stand it anymore, she flung off the covers and let out a noise that began as some semblance of Will's name but deftly rose to a shriek.

Will bolted up beside her and immediately sought her out in the dark, but she scooted away from him as quickly as possible.

"Emma, what's…?" He looked at her in question as she continued to cower and scream in the corner. Her gaze bore holes into his hands and he glanced down.

His palms were covered in blood.


	21. Stages

**I don't really like doing author notes (unless it's to warn you of some lovin'); I think people should just be able to read the story and take from it what they will, but… as soon as I hit the publish button on the last chapter, I waited for the angry messages. I know what I did and I'm not heartless. A lot of people said it seems like a lot for them, and it is, but I'm trying to set things up for the future so this story can go on as long as you and I would like it to. I can't please everyone, and I'm sorry. I do try. But if W&E were blissfully happy **_**all**_** the time… would you really want to read? As always, I write for you and appreciate your reviews. Even if they're saying, "How could you?" I completely understand. You're passionate because you care, and I can't thank you enough for investing yourself in my story. x**

_Stages_

As a guidance counselor, she knew the steps; knew the process. She was supposed to be in denial, but she how could she deny something she hadn't entirely accepted in the first place?

White had always been a soothing color, a clean color, but as she sat in the hospital bed with Will's head resting near her thigh, she despised just how bright everything looked. She hated that it looked like a clean slate when her sheets back home, her perfect white sheets, held the evidence that there was no fresh start in her future.

A nurse entered quietly and offered Emma a kind smile. It contained no pity and for that Emma was grateful. She was not the first miscarriage the ward had seen and she certainly wouldn't be the last. Fifteen to twenty percent of all pregnancies end prematurely, the doctor had said, as if that would offer some comfort, knowing she in the company of others.

Will had asked why, his voice barely breaking at the end. Emma was glad he had the thought to voice the questions she couldn't quite wrap her mind around. Unfortunately, there was no answer. Words like chromosomal deficiencies and hormonal problems were bounced around, but Emma paid them no heed. It could have been either of them, or neither of them. Something along the lines of "It's no one's fault" left the doctor's lips and Emma immediately wanted to claw his eyes out. Never in her life would she ever blame Will for something like this.

The nurse disconnected her IV since it wasn't needed and disappeared without a word. Emma stared at the door as it closed, feeling hollow as she rubbed her hands together in an attempt to wipe off the non-existent blood. Like Lady Macbeth.

Her gaze shifted to Will's sleeping form. She barely remembered how she got there, in bed with machines all around her. It was all a blur. Will had carried her from the bedroom as she continued to scream, both at the mess and what it meant, before wrapping a blanket around her and driving her as fast as possible to the emergency room.

He never said a word, other than to offer the occasional soothing noise. He knew what was happening from the moment he saw the blood on his palms – she could see it in his eyes: the way the light left them and he choked back a silent sob before schooling his features and gathering her in his arms.

Still, even as the doctor confirmed what they both already knew, he was silent. He held her hand and stoked her hair as she sobbed into his chest, but he never uttered a word. All she could picture was blood and her screams were upsetting the other patients. She felt a prick in her arm and immediately her vision blurred. She knew she had been sedated as she struggled to keep her eyes open, but before she succumbed to her medicated tranquility, she felt Will's tears stain her cheeks and heard a sob escape his throat.

He had been trying to be strong for her. And as her mind drifted off, she left him to his grief.

He had promised her that Wednesday night that, no matter the outcome, they would handle this. Together. The problem was that no one even considered this outcome. And she didn't think they actually could.

She couldn't justify what had happened. Both she and Will had lost a piece of themselves today. But maybe it was fate's way of telling them that it was too soon; that they weren't ready. Fate was cruel, but then again, Will and Emma already knew that.

She experienced denial in their bedroom and grief in the emergency room; she decided to skip bargaining because, really, what could she offer in return? And she was now moving rapidly and steadily into depression. The weight in her chest pressed against her lungs and constricted her heart, forcing ragged breaths from her body.

Will still slept at her side, twitching in some nightmare-induced haze. He was still in grief, and she wasn't sure she'd ever get him out of it. She ran her fingers through his hair, taking comfort in the soft, messy curls. He stirred and blinked his eyes open, a brief moment of bliss before the realization hit and he bolted upright.

"It's okay, Will," she whispered, stroking the side of his face. He frantically looked around in an attempt to get his bearings, before his eyes rested on Emma and the heart monitor attached to her finger.

"Sorry," he muttered.

She shook her head, never letting go of his face. "Don't be."

He rested his forehead on her thigh and she ran her fingers through his hair again. He took deep, shuddering inhalations and his breath was hot on her leg.

"What time is it?"

"Almost 9." Her voice didn't sound like it came out of her mouth.

Will sat up and rubbed his face. "I should call my Dad."

"I want to be with you when you do." Calling his Dad, especially after what happened with Terri, was not something Will looked forward to. Emma could see it in his eyes and she wanted to be there holding his hand when dialed the phone.

"Em, I don't think - "

"Will. We'll do it together." She used his own words against him and he had no choice but to nod.

They stared at each other in the deathly silent room. A distant clock ticked off the time and Emma memorized the new lines that carved their way across Will's face. It was the first time they were together, and lucid, since she had woken up in hysterics that morning. It was the first time they could look at each other and comprehend what had just occurred.

"I don't know what happened," she whispered.

"No one does, Em. These things…" he swallowed hard, "… they just do."

She nodded and played with the blanket in her hands. She had been five weeks along – long enough to be sure, and short enough to be risky. That was why you didn't tell anyone until the third month.

Just in case.

Emma swallowed the bile that threatened to rise in her throat. "Will?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"I want to go home."

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "Then I'm gonna get you out of here."

He was gone for just ten minute before returning with discharge papers in hand. One OB/GYN exam, two ultrasounds, five hours, and one signature was all it took to end what had started out as the most exciting/terrifying/miraculous thing to ever happen to her.

She put the cap back on the pen and folded her hands in her lap. That was that.

The hospital had given her a pair of scrubs to go home in, since her nightgown was ruined, and she let Will wheel her to the entrance per hospital procedure, before he scooped her in his arms and carried her the rest of the way to the car.

Emma grasped on tight to Will's hand as he slid into the driver's seat. He gave her a sad attempt at a smile, but it was good enough. There wasn't much to say, so neither made any sort of feeble attempt.

She unlocked the door for him, since his arms were full of her. It would have been amusing had they actually been paying attention to their surroundings. He gently laid her on the couch and disappeared into the bedroom before she could ask him to stay. When he didn't return, she thought about calling for him before she realized that he was taking care of the sheets – a task she would never wish on anyone, especially him.

He appeared in the doorway twenty minutes later, skin pale, eyes red. She didn't comment – just held her hand out to him and beckoned him closer. He was careful as he laid down next to her, placing his ear on her chest. The hospital scrubs were scratchy, but she had no desire to go back into the bedroom. Not yet.

Will's breathing evened out and she allowed herself a moment for her tears, away from the watchful gaze of her fiancé and the clinical stare of the doctors. She cried for the son or daughter she'd never meet and the second failed attempt to make Will a father. She cried for him and his heart, which surely couldn't take much more hope and hurt. She cried for herself and the new fears that settled in her stomach. She cried for Jack and Quinn and her parents and her brother. A silent tear for each and every one that would be affected by something that had been so sudden.

They spent the whole day on the couch alternating between sleeping and watching. Neither ate. Neither drank. It wasn't healthy but it was cathartic.

Emma woke the following morning and slid out from under Will in an effort to get out of the scrubs that were beginning to suffocate her. She stripped them off and threw them directly into the trash, risking a glance at the pristine bed. With its perfectly folded blankets and perfectly plumped pillows, it was as if she had just emerged from some sickly real nightmare.

Emma turned the water on hot and stood under the spray. Steam filled the bathroom and the scalding water marred her skin with angry red blotches. It felt good, as if she was melting away the pain of the past 24 hours, but eventually her skin had had enough even if her heart hadn't and she lowered the temperature.

The curtain was pulled back and she jumped as Will stood there, stark naked, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. Without a word, he stepped in and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her neck. They held each other as the warm water trailed down their backs, drawing strength from a place they couldn't find on their own.

Will pulled away and kissed her – the first kiss he had placed on her lips in over a day, she realized. It was the longest they had gone since they started their relationship and Emma resolved to not go that long again.

Without a word, he took the shampoo bottle and squeezed a bit into his hands, before massaging it into her hair. The tone was remarkably different from the last time they did this: they had been all beating hearts and panting breaths. Now, they were careful gazes and healing touches.

As she let Will wash the shampoo out, she reached for the bottle and returned the favor while he rubbed conditioner through her hair. It was almost like a ritual, as they each studied how the other existed in this new world.

Emma reached up and cupped his cheek. "We're gonna be okay, right?"

He took her hand and kissed her palm. "Of course we are."

Grief still lingered and anger still flashed, but it was the first step towards acceptance and Emma knew the cloud would eventually pass by. As long as they had each other.

They stayed under the water until it turned cold and then Will wrapped Emma in a towel and dried every inch of her. As she dressed and made her way back into the living room, she found Will sitting on the couch, phone hanging limply in his fingers, and she was reminded of the way he patiently waited for her as a simple white stick determined their future.

"Will?"

He glanced up and the phone fell from his hand. "I was trying to call my Dad. Couldn't quite dial the numbers, though."

She walked over and bent down, taking the phone in her hands. "He would want to know."

Will nodded and took the phone. "I know."

Emma sat next to him, as close as she could possibly get without actually sitting in his lap, and rested her head on his shoulder.

The numbers were slowly punched and Will's hand shook as he placed it to his ear. Though the phone wasn't on speaker, Emma could hear Jack's voice as she wrapped her arms around Will's trembling back.

"Dad?"

"Will, what's wrong?"

Of course he knew something had happened. It was that parent/child intuition, that sixth sense that just the slightest change in tone of voice can activate.

"Emma, um…"

"Emma? Is she all right?"

Emma squeezed Will's hand and placed a kiss to his shoulder.

"She, uh…" Will pinched the bridge of his nose, "… we had a miscarriage."

Silence.

"Oh, Will…" It was so quiet, Emma almost didn't catch it. "My boy, I'm so sorry."

Will lifted his head as tears fells onto his cheeks and Emma swallowed hard. They both couldn't lose it. It seemed like they were subconsciously taking turns in holding the other one together.

Father and son stayed on the line, neither saying anything but both drawing comfort from the silence.

"Is there anything I can do?"

Will looked at Emma and raised his eyebrows, his way of asking if there was anything she needed, and she shook her head. She knew Jack would be over in a minute, even if it was just to go grocery shopping for them.

Will placed his hand on Emma's knee and squeezed. "I don't think so, Dad. But thank you."

"Will, I want you and Emma to know I'm here… if you ever need anything." 

"I know, Dad. We both know."

"Tell Emma I love her."

"I will."

Emma tapped Will's shoulder and mouthed the words in return.

"She says she loves you, too." Will smiled.

"Remember, Will, I'm just a phone call away."

"I know you are."

"I love you, son."

Will audibly swallowed and his voice wavered. "I love you too, Dad."

He clicked the phone off and hung his head. Emma kneaded his neck and curled into his side. They stayed like that until neither could bear the silence, the voices and nagging thoughts in their heads creating a deafening cacophony that needed to be drowned out.

Emma decided not to call her parents. Her father was still recuperating and her mother's stress levels were already too high. She'd tell them when distance and time had dulled the pain.

Will made her pancakes and they watched classic movies all day long - anything to get their minds off of the present. _All About Eve, An American in Paris, Singing in the Rain, My Fair Lady, The Philadelphia Story_.

They had tried to end with _It's a Wonderful Life_, but had to turn it off as tears stained both of their cheeks.

Emma stood in the bedroom doorway, listening to Will brush his teeth in the adjacent bathroom. Though her dreams were still splattered with red, the scene of the crime looked remarkably innocent. The only telling factor was that, if she opened the linen cabinet, she would notice that she was short one pair of sheets. And that was because Will took the others to the trash chute and never looked back.

She was so absorbed with the perfect symmetry of the blanket and how it draped over either side of the bed that she didn't notice Will had stopped brushing his teeth until his arms wrapped around her from behind.

"You don't have to go in tomorrow, you know."

"Yes I do."

"It's been two days, Em. I can call Figgins and we can take a personal day."

She turned in his arms as tears pooled in her eyes. "Will, I have to get out of this apartment. I just… need to get back into my routine. Anything to stop thinking about it."

Will nodded and kissed her nose. "Okay."

"Will?"

"Hm?"

"Can we sleep in the guest bedroom? Just for tonight?"

He pulled away and studied her face. "Of course we can."

The bed was harder than theirs and the sheets weren't as soft, but she snuggled up to Will and slept as deeply as she could until the first nightmare woke her up. She glanced over at Will, calm and serene in the peace sleep granted him.

Though the miscarriage devastated her and dashed the few days of bliss she had, she wasn't sure she was entirely ready for children. She wanted them for sure, and, though she was willing to get messier, she wasn't sure pregnancy and motherhood was a mess she was equipped to handle. What broke her heart and kept her up in the middle of the night was Will. His guarded hope as they stared at each other for 150 seconds, his joy as she came to terms with the pregnancy, his utter desolation as he carried her out of their bedroom.

He had been through so much. Would it kill fate to give him a break?

Will rolled over in his sleep and pulled her against him. She smiled into his chest and took comfort in the fact that, though nothing would be able to replace the loss they felt, their hopes and dreams were not a foregone conclusion.

School was an odd experience. Things moved by at their expected pace and Emma was shaken by how… normal… everything seemed. Kids banged their lockers closed, teachers shouted at disruptive students, bells rang, and assignments were completed. But to Emma, everything seemed different. The tea in her mug, the color of her walls, the scrape of the chairs on linoleum.

Will had walked her to her office and kissed her goodbye with instructions to call him if she needed anything, even if he was in the middle of class. So she watched him leave and glanced around her office, a little unsure as to what to do with herself. She had no appointments that morning, no letters to write. Her plan of escaping the thoughts in her head was rapidly backfiring.

Her hope rose when Quinn entered her office – perhaps the girl needed to talk about something – but the eagerness of finding a distraction disappeared when Quinn stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Emma.

Emma stiffened, a little unsure as to what exactly was happening, but when Quinn whispered in her ear, it was all she could to keep from collapsing in the cheerleader's arms.

"When did it happen?"

Emma's jaw dropped as a renegade tear fell from her eye. "How did you know?"

"I saw Mr. Schue," Quinn murmured and pulled away. "He lost his glow."

Emma swallowed hard and nodded. "Saturday morning. Early Saturday morning."

"Miss Pillsbury, why are you here?" Quinn stepped back and glanced over her shoulder to make sure no prying eyes were in the hall to witness Emma's tears.

"Because I can't go home. I can't go home and have nothing to do. I need to be busy."

Quinn looked around. "You don't look very busy to me."

Emma couldn't help but laugh. "The one day I actually _want_ back to back appointments…"

"Well," Quinn started as she sat down and pulled her books onto her lap. "I'm in study hall right now and your soon-to-be husband's Spanish midterm is giving me ulcers. Would you mind quizzing me?"

Emma exhaled. "I'd love to."

As Quinn got her materials out, Emma studied her. Here was a girl who lost a child too, and not in the 5th week. Emma admired her strength and took comfort in it. If a 16-year-old could handle giving up the child she actually held, then Emma could live through this too.

"Is Wi – is Mr. Schue okay? You said you saw him today…" Emma trailed off. "I haven't seen him since this morning."

Quinn looked like a deer caught in headlights and Emma knew that whatever came out of the cheerleader's mouth would be sugarcoated for Emma's sake.

"He's not as… bouncy as he usually is. He's quiet and he looks tired. But he's okay, I guess. As okay as he can be." Quinn offered her a warm smile and Emma attempted to return it.

"So about this midterm…" Emma said, as she reached out for the papers. She and Quinn remained hunched over the desk for the next 40 minutes, her head full of conjugations, declensions and irregular verbs.

The bell rang and Quinn stood, thanking Emma profusely for her help, when Emma knew it should have her offering Quinn her gratification. The student paused at the door and bit her lip.

"Miss Pillsbury, would it be okay if… you know, I let the rest of the club know? Just so no one asks why Mr. Schue's upset? We can try and cheer him up, maybe. If that's all right with you."

Emma nodded, a little overcome with emotion at the love the kids always showed him. Them.

"Go ahead. Keep an eye on him for me."

"Will do, Miss P."

And with that Quinn was gone.

Emma didn't see Will during lunch because he was helping a freshman with some Spanish crisis, but the afternoon at least brought with it a little more excitement. She had a sophomore already freaking out about SAT scores when she hadn't even taken the test, a senior talking to her about his tendencies to spray paint the flagpole, and finally Kurt complaining about the theme for the Sadie Hawkins dance.

As Kurt stood to leave, having pleaded his case, he placed his hand on Emma's arm and offered her a tight smile. Before she could open her mouth to say anything, he was gone. Throughout the afternoon, she noticed the occasional glance from a passing glee club member. None of the looks were pitying; they were loving as if the kids were trying to say, "We're here if you need us."

The clock ticked by and the final bell rang. Emma tiptoed her way down the hall to glee club, having no desire to go home by herself and no mode of transportation anyway. She peered around the door, not wanting to bother, and just observed. The kids were no strangers to what Will had been through with Terri and the mood in the room was mixed. Most would glance at Will while his back was turned with looks of utter heartbreak, but as soon as he faced them again, a smile of the highest wattage would be glued in place. All except for Finn, who seemed to be having the most trouble keeping it together.

Of course, Emma thought. Finn and Will had been in the same boat once. Finn hated that Will was back there again.

"What would you like us to sing, Mr. Schue?"

Will stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Whatever you want, Rach. I didn't have time to make a lesson plan."

The students looked at each other and then back at Rachel who was shockingly not jumping for joy at the chance to expand her repertoire.

"You really don't have any suggestions, Mr. Schue?" Tina piped up. The kids looked like they were at a loss and even the ever-reliable Rachel Berry was tongue-tied.

With a deep breath, Emma stepped into the room.

"How about _Your Song_?" Fourteen heads whipped in her direction. "Elton John. One of my favorites," she whispered.

"Perfect choice, Miss P."

Emma smiled at Mercedes as she took her place next to Will, threading her fingers through his behind their backs.

"I missed you today," she whispered.

"I missed you too," he replied.

"You looked like you needed a co-director." She gestured to the kids as they huddled together divvying out parts.

"Always." He kissed her forehead.

"Okay, Mr. Schue," Puck said as the kids lined up on the risers. "We're ready."

"That was fast."

"We know the song well," Kurt smiled and gestured to Brad who began the piano intro.

"_It's a little bit funny,"_ Finn started out,_ "This feeling inside. I'm not one of those who can easily hide. I don't have much money, but boy if I did," _his voice faltered and Rachel stepped up to help him. _"I'd buy a big house where we both could live." _

Mercedes moved forward as Will slid his arm around Emma. _"If I was a sculptor, but then again, no. Or a man who makes potions in a traveling show. I know it's not much, but it's the best I can do." _

Emma's throat closed as the entire glee club chorused, _"My gift is my song and this one's for you." _

The song was brief, but beautiful. And just what Will and Emma needed. Will smiled his first genuine smile of the day and applauded his kids and they finished the final verse. They had given him his voice back and he happily doled out instructions for their next song selection.

The choir room had become a second home and Emma soaked up as much love and laughter as she could while there. The kids filed out with Finn bringing up the rear and, as he passed Will, he crushed him in a hug that Will returned just as fiercely.

"It's okay, Finn," she heard Will whisper.

"No it's not. It's not fair," Finn replied.

"Well," Will softly smiled over Finn's shoulder, "We can't always get what we want. Can we?"

"You should be able to." Finn muttered, letting go and clearing his throat, but not daring to look at Emma. "Bye, Mr. Schue. Bye, Miss P."

"Finn," Emma called and he turned in the doorway. "Thank you."

He smiled and Emma knew she shouldn't have favorites, but Finn was definitely at the top of her list.

Will's arm snaked around her waist and he buried his nose in her hair. "Let's go home."

They were slowly falling back into their old routine. Emma made pasta sauce as Will baked garlic bread. They talked about their day and the week to come. Emma felt less hollow, but still as if she was missing a piece of herself – a piece she wasn't sure she'd ever get back.

"Thank you for today," Will said as he stroked her hair. She had just pulled her nightgown over her head and the static was making her red locks stand up. "For the song. I didn't…" he shook his head, "I didn't know what to do."

"Will?" She bit her lip, unsure how she wanted to phrase this. "We can try again, right? Later? When the timing's better?"

His face softened and he wrapped his arms around her. "Of course we can. I still want red-headed little girls."

She pulled away and ignored the tear that fell. "And I still want curly-haired little boys."

Will smiled, wiped her cheek, and headed towards the guest bedroom, but Emma tugged him and nodded towards their room.

It was a step. One of many they had made and would continue to make in an effort to move forward.

As they crawled under the pale green sheets that would never truly mask what had happened, she thought of all they had been through: marriages and fake babies, ill-timed kisses and long-term relationships. Through death and through life. And life was the most important part.

After all… there was still a wedding to plan. And Regionals to win.

And acceptance to find.


	22. Regionals

**My lovelies, it's a little longer than usual. My imagination may have run amuck. **

_Regionals_

"Puck! Get off the catwalk!"

Will's voice echoed around the auditorium and Emma squinted into the darkness to see movement near the upper part of the proscenium.

A few of the kids cooed "Ooooooh" as Puck gingerly climbed down the metal ladder and hopped back down on the stage.

Rachel glared at him with her hands on her hips. "You're only allowed up there if you're playing Maria in _West Side Story_ or the Phantom in - "

"Let me guess," Mercedes interrupted. "_The Phantom of the Opera_?"

"Precisely."

"Guys, please stop messing around." Will ran a hand through his hair. "Regionals are in two days and you're bouncing off the walls!"

Emma had to agree. In the 20 minutes that they had been in the auditorium, Santana and Quinn had been trading bitchy barbs, Rachel was following Will around with last minute song pointers as he went over dance steps with Finn, Kurt and Mercedes had moved the acting blocks together to make a runway, and Puck was trying to prove that he had hidden a stash of Jack Daniels in the rafters.

Will had finally reached his breaking point. "Enough!"

Sam chose that moment to accidentally release a sandbag and it landed a foot and a half from Artie's chair.

"Oops."

Will hung his head in defeat. "I give up. If you want to mess around, be my guest. But don't expect to win on Saturday if you can't grow up and act like a team."

"Sorry, Mr. Schue," chorused the group of teens.

"All right. From the top."

Emma smiled and settled back into her seat in the rear of the auditorium. Will was usually pretty lenient with his kids, but with Regionals looming in a mere 48 hours, he was beginning to buckle down. She had to admit, she kind of liked the stern side of him. He mimicked the movements in his seat as the kids danced onstage, occasionally making notes to share when they were finished.

She found herself watching him more than the musical number. His lips moved silently, mouthing the words that reverberated off the walls. He hunched over in his chair to make a quick note before gluing his eyes back on his kids. She hadn't made her presence known yet, preferring to be a fly on the wall and observe the glee club in its natural habitat.

They were good. Incredibly good. But Emma found her mind wandering.

It had been four months since she had awoken in a state of hysteria and Will carried her from the bedroom, his skin stained red. She still couldn't utter the word and she flinched anytime someone mentioned babies or pregnancy. It wasn't because she didn't want all of that. She wanted it more than she could voice. But she was terrified.

Her fear infected her life as it spilled from compartment to compartment, like a wave. Will and Emma's love life had petered out – it was not nearly as frequent or as passionate. In the weeks after they returned from the hospital, Emma jumped whenever Will touched her and she learned quickly that if she wanted intimacy, she'd have to be the one to initiate it. Will had backed off, unsure if his help would only hurt.

They had been so careful before, using the usual measures, yet she had gotten pregnant anyway. She didn't think she could handle that feeling of emptiness or the look of heartbreak as it crashed across Will's face. Will. He had been so guarded in his feelings, always trying to be her mooring, but sometimes she just wanted them both to let it all out. To scream and cry and throw things, because if she didn't, she was afraid she would run. And that thought hung over her like a cloud.

She had been deemed healthy by the doctor at the hospital, but what if they missed something? What if it happened again? What if she couldn't give Will what he wanted most of all? What if, what if, what if.

She jumped as Will began to clap, congratulating the kids on an excellent number.

"Just a few things," he glanced down at his notepad, "Sam, smile. You look like you're in pain."

Sam grinned and blushed. "Sure thing, Mr. Schue."

"Rachel, ease up on the jazz hands, you're blocking Kurt's face."

Emma snorted and then slid down in her chair to hide from Rachel's accusing glance as it scanned the back row.

"But, Mr. Schue - " Rachel began her defense but Will held up his hand and moved on.

"Puck, try and keep your eyes on the audience and not on your fellow female glee clubbers."

Santana rolled her eyes, but put an extra sway in her hips as she walked past him to the other side of the stage.

"And that's it. That's all I have. Great job, guys. I'm really proud of you. No practice tomorrow…"

Rachel made a noise of protest, but Will ignored her.

"Those of you who need final fittings, see Miss Pillsbury in her office tomorrow. Rest up and we'll meet at 9:00am on Saturday in the parking lot."

The kids waved their goodbyes and made their way out of the auditorium. Emma watched Will for a few more moments as he gathered up his papers and shoved them in his bag.

"I know you're back there," he said, without turning around.

"You caught me." She stood and made her way down the aisle. Will leaned against the stage and smiled at her.

"I can pick your perfume out of a flower shop." He held out his hand and pulled her to him. "How did they sound?"

"They're amazing. You done good, kid." She smiled and kissed his cheek.

He grinned. "Thanks."

He swung his bag over his shoulder and took her hand as he led her out of the auditorium. His grip was tight and her ring dug into her skin.

"You okay?" His voice jolted her out of her thoughts.

"Fine. Why?"

"You're quiet."

"Oh." She forced a smile on her face to pacify the concerned look on his. "Just thinking."

Her reply must have been convincing because he smiled and squeezed her hand before searching his pockets for the car keys. Had he still been looking, he would have seen her fragile façade shatter as soon as his back was turned.

They stopped at the grocery store on the way home and Emma perused the vegetables as Will made a beeline for the cookie aisle. Throwing some tomatoes in her basket, she made her way to aisle three and just watched him as he weighed the pros and cons of two different cookie brands. He put such care and consideration into each one: taste, price, nutritional content, chocolate chip count.

He bit his lip and furrowed his brow in concentration, his glasses perched on the end of his nose to read the small print. She remembered the first time she discovered he wore glasses: he had stayed late at school to grade papers during a time when going home to his wife was not exactly appealing. Emma had hiked her bag onto her shoulder and tucked the SAT prep book under her arm as she made her way down the hallway. The light from his office threw patterns on the floor and she paused to peek in the window. His feet were propped up on his desk, his chin tucked into his chest, as a stack of papers lay abandoned on his stomach. His soft snores broke the late night silence and the black-rimmed glasses framed his closed eyes. She stopped and stared, confused that after two years of friendship, she had been unaware of this certain accessory.

As if he sensed her presence, he glanced up and locked eyes with her.

"Tough choice?"

He grinned. "Always."

"Go with whatever one has the most sugar," she offered.

"Hm. Smart."

She rolled her eyes. "I was kidding. You eat like you're fifteen."

"I do not!"

She held up the Pringles in his basket. "I rest my case."

He scoffed, but kept his mouth shut, clearly having lost the argument.

She studied him as they checked out: the way he gingerly handled the tomatoes so as to not bruise them, the way he cheerfully greeted the checkout lady drawing a slight smile from her stoic face, the way he shifted all three bags into one hand so he could use his free one to grab hold of hers.

She glanced over at him occasionally and watched the way his eyes carefully scanned the road. It was a quiet moment before the utter chaos they came home to. Navy dresses with deep orange sashes had taken over their closet and navy shirts and deep orange ties were laid out on the dining room table, labeled according to their respective glee club owner.

Emma had been in charge of costumes and she determined that it would be safer for all involved if the outfits were kept in Will and Emma's apartment. The girls would be coming over the following day for a final fitting.

She had lost Will the final few nights before Regionals to sheet music and structured pacing. He would hum the kids' songs as he made dinner, causing Emma to know every key change in their seven minute set by heart.

After dinner, Will would hunch over the sheet music, gnawing the end of a pencil as he made notes in the margins. And every night, Emma would give him fifteen minutes of uninterrupted stressing before gently removing the paper from his hand. Tonight was no different.

"The set's done, honey. There's nothing else you can do."

"I know." He sighed and stood, walking towards the dining room and running his hands through his hair. She watched the tension settle in his back, which wreaked havoc on his emotions but did wonders for his posture. She loved that he cared so much so she didn't mind that he turned into a zombie during the week leading up to any major competition.

"Hey, Em?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you think of these?" Will held up the shirt and tie labeled 'Puck.'

"Um, I think they're great, seeing as I picked them out."

"No, I mean as colors."

Emma giggled. "I think I'm going to refer you back to my previous answer."

"As _wedding_ colors."

"Oh." Well that was a whole new ball game.

"They seem very autumn-ish."

Emma tilted her head to the side and examined the ensemble. "They do."

She couldn't help the way her stomach knotted. She loved Will, more than life, but she was scared of not being enough for him. They were living a blissful existence, one they had shared within those walls for over five months now.

In the beginning, they didn't tell anyone outside of immediate family that they had moved in together in order to ease the transition, but their plan failed within the first two weeks. Rachel showed up unannounced to ask Will a question and was more than a little shocked when Emma answered the door in a robe that Sunday morning. Though why Rachel was knocking on a Sunday morning was beyond either of them and the teen never explained as she bolted down the hall before Will could even ask who was there.

Will cleared his throat and Emma's attention snapped back to him.

"We don't have to use them, Em. It was just a thought." Will laid Puck's shirt back down on the table and smoothed out the wrinkles.

"I love them. It was a great thought." She swallowed the lump in her throat.

Invitations weren't going out until the end of July, but the guest list was almost complete and the menu had been chosen. With every week that inched by, the choke of panic tightened its grip on her. Her mother had told her that it was completely normal for brides to be anxious. To have cold feet.

Then again, her mother didn't know that she had suffered a miscarriage four months prior.

Will was the first to broach the subject. It had been a month and he sat on the edge of the bed as she thumbed through the latest thriller to capture her attention. She had asked him what was wrong and he told her she might want to think about informing her parents. At the time, she had said she planned on telling them soon. But "soon" became another month and Will never brought the topic up again.

She stood and ran her hand down Will's back. "I really do love them. Let's do it."

"Yeah?" A smile bloomed across his face.

"Yeah."

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. Will had three more panic attacks and Emma eventually hid his sheet music under the mattress.

Emma kept her panic attacks to herself.

The following day, the kids signed up in her office for final fittings, but her attempt at organization failed when Rachel, Mercedes, Kurt and Tina all showed up to the apartment at the same time.

"Hey, guys," Will called from the couch.

"Hey, Mr. Schue."

Emma led them to the guest room where the dresses hung in the closet. Kurt changed in the bathroom as the girls commandeered the bedroom, and when Emma returned to the living room Finn, Sam, Mike and Artie had joined the party. Will was pulling soda from the fridge as the guys settled around the kitchen table. She caught Will's eye and he winked before Rachel tapped her on her shoulder.

"Looks great, Rachel. How does it feel?"

"I think it could be taken in a bit on the sides."

"Okay, up you go." Emma ushered her up onto the coffee table and picked up the pincushion. As she gathered the fabric of Rachel's dress between her fingers, Mercedes appeared in the living room.

"How does it look, Miss P?"

Emma gave her a thumbs up and mumbled a noise of approval through the pins in between her lips.

"It feels great. I don't think I need any alterations."

Emma nodded again and pinned Rachel's dress. Laughter erupted from the kitchen and Emma jumped.

"Ow!"

"Sorry, Rach," Emma mumbled.

"It's okay, Miss Pillsbury."

Finn appeared in the living room as Emma patted Rachel's arm. "All finished."

"Hey, Miss P, which one's mine?"

She smiled. "The one that says, 'Finn."

"Oh," he grinned sheepishly. "Right."

Tina hopped up on the coffee table as Kurt emerged from the bathroom with his shirt and tie on the hanger.

"Fits perfectly, Miss Pillsbury. And might I commend you on your color palate."

Emma laughed. "Thank you, Kurt."

She pinned Tina's hem and listened to the conversation filtering in from the kitchen.

"Mr. Schue, when are you getting married?" _Sam_.

"October. Your invitation will be in the mail."

"Really?" _Artie_.

"Of course."

"Hey, thanks." _Mike._

"Miss Pillsbury?"

Emma started at Tina's voice. "Yes?"

"We're really happy you and Mr. Schue are getting married."

"So am I, Tina." Emma placed the final pin in her hem and announced her finished.

Finn came out with his tie hanging loosely around his neck. "The shirt fits fine, but I'm not really sure how to…" he gestured helplessly at the orange fabric.

"I've got you covered," Will said as he took a swig from his soda and gestured Finn over. "Sam, Mike, Artie! You're up!" he called over his shoulder.

The boys appeared a moment later and grabbed their shirts as Will showed Finn how to loop the tie around his neck.

"Cross over, loop around..." Will murmured, making sure Finn kept up.

A warm feeling spread through Emma as she watched Finn follow Will's fingers. She imagined Will teaching a little boy how to walk and ride a bike; how to tie his shoelaces and his ties; how to shave and treat girls right.

The image faded just as quickly as it came and with it went the picture of the little boy with his father's hair and his mother's eyes.

A knock on the door confirmed the arrival of Brittany, Santana and Quinn, which turned the apartment into an impromptu pep rally. Emma quickly put the dresses and shirts back in the closet to protect them from the dance party that broke out in the living room. Puck waltzed in an hour later and informed her that he didn't need to try on his shirt. Emma just shrugged her shoulders, too tired to argue.

The dance off turned into a game of charades and Emma laughed from the couch as she threaded a needle through Rachel and Tina's dresses. Kurt was doing something that involved a lot of flapping and eventually Santana's voice rang out with "Big Bird!"

"Yes!" Kurt dropped his flapping arms in exasperation.

"Seriously?" Mercedes raised her eyebrows. "Big Bird? Who came up with that?"

Rachel stood and a collective groaned escaped the room. "I'll have you know that Sesame Street was a pivotal component of my childhood. Mr. Schuester? Miss Pillsbury? I only hope your children will be educated in ways of Elmo and Mr. Snuffleupagus."

The kids erupted in laughter, but the humor had gone out of Emma like water down a drain. She caught the uneasy look Finn shot Will and, though Will chuckled for Rachel's sake, the smile did not reach his eyes and his hand sought out hers and squeezed.

Two more rounds of charades and Will called it a night. After all, they had a big day tomorrow. Emma hung the altered dresses back in the closet and crashed into bed next to Will. He pulled her into his side and buried his face in her hair.

"You might need to slip some sedatives into my breakfast tomorrow morning."

She smirked in the darkness. "They're already mixed in with the coffee grinds."

"Oh good."

She turned in his arms and pressed her lips to his. "Honey, you are an amazing teacher, and your kids respect you so much. You're going to be amazing. I know it."

He held her tighter and she watched over him until his eyelids fluttered shut and his breathing evened out. The worry lines on his face disappeared and his grip on her waist slackened. She smiled softly as she twisted one of his curls around her finger. Her ring caught the light of the alarm clock and it cast shadows across Will's face.

With a final brush of her lips against his cheek, she burrowed into his chest and waited for morning to rouse her.

But when the time came, it wasn't the light streaming through the window or the soft rock coming through the radio that pulled her from a dream involving blue shirts, orange ties, and red wine stains. It was Will's lips on her cheek and his hot breath murmuring that it was time to get up.

Her eyes snapped opened and she saw that Will was already showered and running around in dress pants and a t-shirt, coffee mug in hand.

"You are never this productive in the morning," she groaned.

"That's usually your fault," he countered, raising his eyebrow suggestively.

She rolled her eyes, but felt a pang. She hadn't jumped in on him in the shower in quite some time. Will gently tugged at her ankle.

"I made you tea," he said, nodding to the nightstand where the mug rested on a coaster. "And I already got the kids' outfits in the car."

"Wow, you really are wired, aren't you."

He took another sip of his coffee. "Just a bit."

She sat up and stretched as he tugged on her ankle again. "I'm coming! I'm coming!" she grumbled, before rolling out of bed. Will disappeared to the kitchen and Emma slipped into the shower, considering her closet. She was so busy outfitting the kids, she hadn't taken into consideration her own wardrobe choice.

As she lathered up and decided on yellow as her color of choice, the loofa caught her ring and sent it spinning to the title. As if in slow motion, Emma dropped to her knees and slammed her hand down before the diamond was swallowed up by the drain. Her heart hammered against her ribcage and her breath escaped in ragged pants. Her hands shakily picked up the ring and placed it back on her finger as she tucked her knees into her chest.

The water was hot against her back and her hair hung over her face like a curtain. She couldn't do this. It was too much. _Too much, too fast. Too much, too fast. _The gamut of emotions she was experiencing made her feel stretched like a blanket too small to stave off the cold. There was a crack in the tile above the cold-water knob and she related. Both were inadequate, imperfect… irreparably broken.

"Em? You all right?" The sound of Will's knuckles drumming against the door echoed around the bathroom. She wiped her eyes, even though she couldn't tell the difference between her tears and the water raining down.

She cleared her throat and responded, "Fine. Why?"

"Well, you're taking a while… even for you."

She could hear the smile in his voice and a few more tears stained her skin.

"Be out in a minute." She knew her voice sounded strained, but she hoped Will would attribute that to the water and not to the sobs threatening to steal her breath.

It had taken four months to build up her composure and only four seconds to shatter it.

When she finally made her way back into the bedroom, she yanked the yellow sundress from the closet, making quick work of it before drying her hair. Will came up behind her and kissed her shoulder, grinning at her in the mirror.

"I think I need to cut down on my caffeine intake in the days leading up to competitions."

"I agree." Her voice was hoarse and she swallowed.

"You sure you're okay?"

"Positive." She flashed a smile. "I think your nerves are rubbing off on me."

"Sorry." Will placed another kiss on the back of her neck and let her finish her routine.

She applied concealer to her dark circles and eyeliner to her puffy eyes, but nothing she did would diminish how bloodshot they were.

The ride to the school was tense. Will kept drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as Emma bounced her knee. By the time he pulled into McKinley's parking lot, Emma practically bounded out of the car, its walls feeling a little too claustrophobic and its seatbelts a little too tight.

The bus loomed next to the school and Will checked his watch.

"8:50."

Rachel was already pacing next to the yellow vehicle as her Dads waited patiently by their car. Will strode over and shook hands with the Misters Berry and Emma walked up to the nervous brunette who seemed to be going over choreography in her head.

"Morning, Rachel."

"Morning, Miss Pillsbury," she replied, without looking up.

"Feeling okay?"

"Feeling like a winner."

Emma had to admire her confidence. She squinted her eyes as Finn drove up and Kurt hopped out of the passenger seat. Santana and Brittany joined them shortly thereafter, followed soon by Mercedes and Quinn, Artie, Mike and Tina.

The kids grabbed their costumes and clamored onto the bus, waving goodbye to their parents with promises to see them later at the venue. Emma sat in the front seat as Will waited on the steps and checked his watch for the fifteenth time. A blonde woman drove up and Sam jogged over to Will as Puck careened his mother's minivan into the lot.

As soon as the boys were seated, Will nodded to the driver. "That's all of us."

The bus started up with a rumble and Emma held onto the brown seat cover in front of her. Will slid in beside her and squeezed her knee, knowing her disdain for public transportation.

Emma craned her head around to find Kurt and Mercedes sharing an iPod, Quinn sleeping against Sam, Finn and Puck arguing which Call of Duty was better, and Santana and Brittany whispering in hushed tones.

Assuring herself that the kids were behaving, she let her eyes close as she rested her head against Will's firm shoulder. He dropped a kiss to her hair and rubbed circles on her knee, but instead of bathing in the warm love Will showered on her, she could only wonder how long she could continue to hide just how damaged she was.

The engine idled and Emma shot up, nearly knocking Will in the nose as he bent down to whisper that they were here. An hour seemed to have gone by in the span of a minute.

"Morning, Sunshine."

Emma managed a smile and patted down her hair as she surveyed the scene. Kids and parents were steadily streaming into the auditorium and her stomach did a nervous flip for once not because of her internal musings but for the kids and Will and what all this meant to them.

"All right, guys, listen up!" Will stood and the bus fell silent. "We've come a long way to get here, and I am so, so proud of how hard you all have worked. I know you can do this. _You_ know you can do this. Now let's go out there and show them just how much we deserve it."

Cheers and applause erupted from the back of the bus and Emma smiled. It was these moments she loved, when Will was doing what he did best.

The kids grabbed their gear and filed into the auditorium, following Will through the crowd like a bunch of ducklings. He checked them in and ushered them to the green room, where Emma helped the girls and Will helped the boys.

"Miss P, can you zip me?" Mercedes spun and Emma fastened the back of her dress. "Thanks."

"You all right, Miss Pillsbury?" Quinn asked. "You look a little pale."

Emma froze. Was she really so transparent? "Oh just, you know, pre-show jitters."

"Thanks for helping us out," Tina started. "Mr. Schue was always a little lost when it came to dresses and girly things."

"We told him we were preparing him for when he had a daughter," Brittany giggled, but a hush seemed to fall over the room as Emma's skin tone lost another shade and Santana elbowed the cheerleader in the ribs.

And there it was again. That look of pity that she had grown to loathe over the past few months.

"Sorry, Miss P," Quinn apologized on behalf of Brittany.

"It's okay, girls." _I think. _She forced a smile. "Really." _I hope. _"If you guys are all set, I think I'm going to see how the boys are doing."

Emma headed for the door, but before she could completely make her escape, she heard Rachel mutter, "Now look what you did," as she rounded the corner.

Though the hallway contained more people, it seemed infinitely less claustrophobic than the girls' changing room. Will stood at the end of the hall, surrounded by boys in navy shirts and orange ties. He seemed to be struggling with the fabric around Sam's neck.

"How did you even get it to knot like this?"

"Mr. Schue, if I knew that, my shoelaces would have been a piece of cake."

Will smirked and freed Sam's tie, before quickly doing it up again in a perfect Windsor. "They're about to start, so go get your seats. I'll get the girls and be there in a second."

The boys headed off towards the auditorium and Will turned, finding Emma in the crowd. His shoulders slumped and before she could even register what she was doing, she was standing in front of him and wrapping her arms securely around his neck. He squeezed her back, but when she felt his arms loosening, she held on tighter, as if he'd slip away if she let go. They stood like that for a few minutes in the middle of the chaos.

When she finally pulled away, she found a goofy grin on his face.

"What was that for? Not that I'm complaining."

She shrugged. "Part of being someone's other half means knowing when they need a hug."

"Thank you." He kissed her forehead, but pulled away when a throat cleared behind them.

Rachel stood there, looking remorseful for having interrupted yet anxious to get the show on the road.

"Take your seats, ladies." Will gestured toward the doors. "The boys are already in there."

The girls departed as a "Will!" echoed through the vestibule. Emma craned her neck to find Jack bobbing and weaving his way through the crowds, saying hello to the girls as they passed, before tackling Will in a hug.

"Am I late?"

Will smiled. "It's just about to start."

Jack's gaze left his son and focused on Emma as he wrapped his arms around her. She relaxed into his embrace, taking comfort in the feeling of his sweater and the smell of his aftershave. He reminded her of her father.

They took their seats as the lights dimmed and the curtain rose on the first group. She could hear Will inhale, but when no exhalation came, she assumed he would be holding his breath for the entirety of the performance. The group's vocal arrangements were good – maybe even better than New Directions – but their choreography paled in comparison to Will's.

McKinley had drawn the third slot yet again, so as the first group took their bows, Will led the kids backstage to wait in the wings, but not before kissing Emma and receiving a whispered, "Break a leg," from his father.

Emma scooted over into the seat Will vacated next to Jack and he patted her arm. In the months after _it_ happened, Jack had been a rock for Will and Emma. Never overbearing, but always there; never hovering, but always willing and able. She appreciated it more than she could express.

The second group was so-so. Obviously talented, but clearly the third place winners. Wherever he was backstage, Emma was sure that Will was breathing a sigh of relief.

And then the curtain rose on navy blue and deep orange and the crowd applauded before a single note had been sung. Emma held her breath and took Jack's hand.

The music began and Emma had tears in her eyes as soon as the kids opened their mouths. She finally knew what Will had meant when they discussed his life's ambitions in the faculty lounge a lifetime ago. Just as he knew that the 1993 Nationals were in his pocket before the set was over, Emma knew that the 2011 Regionals belonged to New Directions.

The kids finished, arms held high, and the audience erupted. Emma was on her feet and in Jack's arms before she even registered that the music had stopped. The kids' eyes sought her out in the crowd and she gave them an exuberant thumbs up before the emcee whisked them off the stage.

The groups were gathered shortly thereafter and Will stood tall and proud in his perfectly tailored suit next to his kids stage right. He caught her eye and beamed and the joy she felt for him, for them, overshadowed the crisis of conscience she had been having for the past few weeks.

So lost was she in the spark of his eye and the flash of his smile that it took her a minute to register that "New Directions" had just echoed around the auditorium and that the kids were currently tackling Will as he tried to take the trophy the emcee was attempting to hand him.

As soon as his fingers touched it, Will passed the trophy off to Finn and jumped from the stage to find Emma in the crowd.

His arms wrapped around her and he lifted her off the ground, before setting her down and grabbing his father.

Chaos. Emma's external life was beginning to reflect her internal.

It took them nearly an hour to get the kids back on the bus. The furniture of the green room had been pushed against the walls and a dance off had begun in the middle of the floor. The dresses got wrinkled and the ties got looser but Emma didn't care.

Will joined in for one round before corralling everyone back onto the bus where the party continued. It was one big repertoire of their greatest hits and a celebratory dinner at Breadsticks was planned by the parents.

The trophy was placed in the middle of the table, the centerpiece to the feast, and patrons moved away from the rambunctious crowd to the other side of the restaurant.

Emma sat back and just observed, soaking it all in, because she knew that the happiness surrounding her was the only thing keeping her from completely falling to pieces.

As Rachel recounted the horror of finding a pimple on her face that morning and Puck attempted to order booze for the third time that evening, Emma felt the walls begin to close in again. She began to feel as helpless and alone as she did sitting on the floor of the shower that morning.

She was broken.

That was what she kept telling herself over and over again and, after a while, she actually started to believe it. It was engrained in her brain and in her heart no matter how many loving looks Will shot her way or how many times he said they could try again when the time was right.

She was broken. And he couldn't fix her.

"Will, I think I need to go." Her voice cut through the chat he had been having with Carole Hummel and he looked at her concerned.

"You all right?"

"Yeah, just tired. I'm not really feeling all that well."

"Okay," he ran his hands up and down her arms. "Just let me say goodbye to everyone."

"No!" Her response had been sharper than she intended and he raised his eyebrows. "Sorry, I mean, no. I don't want to tear you away from the party."

"Em, we came here in one car."

_Right_. Emma bit her lip and looked for a way out as her chest tightened like a vice around her lungs.

"Will, we can drop you off," Carole offered.

"You sure?"

"Of course, you're on the way."

Will nodded and focused his attention back on Emma as he fished the keys out of his pocket. "And you're okay?"

"Uh huh." She wished her voice sounded more confident.

"Okay, well, call me if you need me. I shouldn't be too much longer."

She turned to leave, but something made her turn and grab his cheeks, bringing his lips to hers. She vaguely registered a few catcalls coming from the kids as she pulled away.

"I love you."

He cocked his head at her. "I love you too. I'll see you at home?"

Emma swallowed. "Yeah. See you at home."

She let go of his hand and walked away, throwing a final glance over her shoulder in time to see him catch a garlic knot in his mouth that Finn had thrown from across the table.

A tear fell onto her cheek.

An hour later, Emma looked at her watch. Will would be on his way home by now. He'd pick up the mail, because Emma hadn't, and hit the elevator button only to read the sign saying that the elevator was out of service for mandatory maintenance. He'd walk up the three flights of stairs, juggling both the trophy and the stack of mail as he fumbled for his keys. Giving up, he'd knock on the door, expecting Emma to open it for him but no one would be there. He'd knock again and call her name, before finally pulling his keys from the deep recesses of his bag and opening the door to a dark apartment. He'd probably frown, confused, and drop his bag on the floor as he flicked the light on. He'd place the trophy on the dining room table as he moved through the apartment, calling for her again. It would be easy to overlook the note she left, a meager offering for all he had given her. After all, he wouldn't be looking for it. There would be no way he could expect that his world was about to go from right-side-up to upside down in a matter of moments.

The thought brought tears to Emma's eyes and blurred her vision as she tried to make out the highway signs.

There was no way Will could expect to read in the bright light reflecting off of the trophy,

_I can't do this right now. I need time. I'm so sorry. I love you._

_- Emma_

The ring would tumble into his hand and he would drop the note before falling to the floor. He would look for proof and find it in her missing suitcase and empty closet, but as she crossed the Ohio border, Emma knew he'd continue searching.

Because how could he anticipate that when he drove home riding the high of victory, that Emma wouldn't be there waiting for him?


	23. Retrospections

_Retrospections_

"_Em, you can't do that." _

"_Yes, I can." _

"_No you can't. That's cheating." _

"_Nuh uh!" _

"_Yes huh!" _

"_Will - "_

"_Emma."_

"_Fine. Show me again." She handed him the stack of cards and he shuffled._

"_Pick a card." He fanned them out. "Any card."_

_She drew one, glanced at it, and placed it back in the pile. Will shuffled them again, split the deck, and held up her card._

"_Ace of Hearts." _

"_How do you _do _that?" _

Emma followed signs for I-70 E and wiped her eyes. Rain pounded steadily on the car and her windshield wipers, though efficient, were doing nothing for the tears streaming down her cheeks.

She glanced at her hand as it gripped the steering wheel. Though the ring felt like it had weighed 20 pounds over the past few weeks, her finger felt naked as it rested on the worn leather.

She had just left. Just like that. Without a thought to him and what it would mean to come home to a dark home, to sleep in an empty bed, to wake to a quiet morning.

Now, in the oppressive silence of the compact car, he haunted her.

"_I will always fight for you…"_

Emma shook her head and focused on the taillights of the car ahead of her. The clock radio flashed 10:03 and she tried not to think about what he was doing. On any other night, he'd be somewhere in the middle of his routine: brushing his teeth, reading a book, making love to her. But tonight? She didn't want to venture a guess, but her mind had some vivid suggestions.

She had turned off her phone and stuffed it into the bottom of her purse, which was in the backseat, so if she actually gave in to the desire to turn it back on, it would involve pulling over, parking, and unbuckling her seatbelt.

She had already hit up a rest stop for caffeine and was trying not to think about the public restroom she would no doubt have to encounter when the grande tea she drank made its way through her system.

She fiddled with the radio to take her mind off of him and them and the uncomfortable fullness of her bladder, but as the Righteous Brothers filled the car, she wished she had left well enough alone.

_She didn't tell anyone it was her birthday. She didn't like to make a big deal, not being a fan of crowds and typical birthday fare like cake and ice cream. But she was looking forward to seeing someone in particular and she held her breath as she walked down the hall. She hadn't seen Will since their argument the week prior about the merits of the movie _Top Gun_. Will had said that Goose and Meg Ryan had more chemistry in two minutes than Tom Cruise and whatshername had in two hours. Emma begged to differ, insisting that brownie points had to be awarded for the love scene alone. Of course, she blushed furiously when she mentioned this to Will, but she smoothly transitioned to her other favorite scene in the movie. After all, who could argue with men in uniform singing some Motown?_

_Humming to herself, she turned the corner into the faculty lounge and found not her colleagues, but the glee kids sitting around the tables. The glee boys, to be exact. _

"_Hi, Miss Pillsbury," Finn waved. _

"_Um, hi." Emma glanced at her watch. It wasn't lunch, but she had just come in for some hot water. "I don't think you guys are supposed to be in here." _

"_Not without faculty supervision, no," Artie offered. _

_Emma looked around, finding not an adult among them, not even a certain curly-haired, hazel-eyed Spanish teacher. _

"_Well, where's Mr. Sch…" She trailed off as Will's voice filled the room. _

"You never close your eyes anymore when I kiss your lips." _Will appeared from his hiding spot behind a bookcase on the other side of the room and her mind went blank as Kurt led her to a seat. _"And there's no tenderness like before in your fingertips. You're trying hard not to show it…"

"Baby!" _the boys chorused, causing Emma to jump._

"But, baby…" _Will pointed at her, "_Baby I know it…"

_The boys lined up next to their teacher as their voices rang out,_ "You've lost that lovin' feeling. Whoa that lovin' feeling. You've lost that lovin' feeling. Now it's gone… gone… gone, whooooo."

_Will stepped out of formation and made his way towards her as her heart leapt into her throat. _

"Now there's no welcome look in your eyes when I reach for you." _His held his hand out and she playfully slapped it away. _"And now you're starting to criticize little things I do." _He pouted and she laughed. _"It makes me just feel like crying…"

"Baby!" _The boys shouted again. _

"Cause, baby," _Will grabbed her shoulders, _"something beautiful's dying."

"You've lost that lovin' feeling," _the boys chorused._ "Whoa that lovin' feeling. You've lost that lovin' feeling. Now it's gone… gone… gone, whooooo."

_The boys started the background beat and Emma burst out laughing. _"Ba dum. Ba dum, ba dum dum dum."

_Will dropped down in front of her laughter stuck in her throat. _"Baby, baby, I get down on my knees for you. If you would only love me like you used to do, yeah. We had a love, a love, a love you don't find everyday." _His eyes softened and her heart shattered._ "So don't, don't, don't, don't let it slip away." _He stood and joined the guys._ "Baby!"

"Baby!" _They echoed. _

"Baby!"

"Baby!"

"I beg you please." _Will put his hand over his heart and Emma found herself doing the same. By the time he got to the _"I need your love" _lyrics, Emma was practically a puddle in a plastic chair. _

_The song came to its rousing conclusion and Emma gave them a standing ovation as they shouted "Happy Birthday!" at the top of their lungs. _

_The boys filed out, laughing and high-fiving each other, and Emma thanked them all until only Will was left. _

_He shrugged. "I couldn't find the uniform, so you're stuck with just the cardigan." He tugged at his gray sweater and smiled the smile only reserved for her. "Happy birthday, Em." _

_It was the best birthday present she had received in a long time, though the image of Will in uniform plastered itself on the front of her brain for the remainder of the month. _

As a commercial for used cars broke through the haze of memories, Emma choked out the sob she had been holding hostage until the song was over. The heartbreaking part was that they hadn't even been dating. That was just Will being Will.

Emma turned off exit 21 and merged onto I-79 S, leaving the song and the memory in her rearview mirror.

"_I found it at the drugstore." _

"_They sell board games at the drugstore?" _

_He handed her the box. "They sell everything at the drugstore." _

"_What's," she squinted, "Electronic Monopoly?" _

"_Credit cards. No money." _

"_No money?" She looked at him with incredulity. "Where's the fun in that?" _

"_You're upset you can't cheat, aren't you." _

"_I don't cheat." _

_He chuckled. "I bet you were one of those kids that hid money under the board and brought it out when the time was right." _

_She looked down and dug her toe into the carpet. "I was not." _

_His eyes went wide. "Oh my god, you were!" _

"_Will…" _

"_Cheater, cheater, compulsive cleaner!" _

"_Hey!" _

Unable to hold it in any longer, Emma pulled over at the next rest stop and armed herself with Clorox wipes and rubber gloves as she made her way into the dimly lit bathroom.

She never thought of herself as a runner. As a child, her father would have to practically tackle her so she could wash her hands before dinner. She had scabby knees and dirty fingernails from making too many mud pies in the backyard, and she loved to be chased by her brother just because it made her go faster. It helped that she could climb higher than he could so he never actually caught her. But as she grew and scabby knees turned into polished skin, she thought her running days were behind her.

Boy was she ever wrong.

When things got tough, she ran. She ran when Sue confronted her in the hallway, when Rachel came to her about intimacy, when her impossibly perfect idea of Will toppled because he was only human after all. She ran, she ran, she ran.

It was disheartening to realize that she couldn't blame her gaunt look entirely on the low-watt institutional lighting but it was nearing midnight and the only person that mattered, the only person she couldn't face, was back in Ohio.

The thought of Will caused her to dig her phone out of the recesses of her bag and she stared at it, debating whether to face his worry/anger/confusion/love now or later.

She held her breath as her finger pressed the power button but the sight of 10 missed calls, four voicemails, and eight text messages had her shutting the phone off again. Her heart clenched and she gripped the sides of the ceramic sink as she gasped for breath.

She was already broken. There was no need to break him too.

But she did.

"_It's really not that hard."_

_She scoffed and crossed her arms. _

"_Just hold your nose and then…" he trailed off. _

"_Handle human feces," she finished. _

_Will raised his eyebrow. "I was gonna go with 'Change a diaper,' but we can use your words." _

_They glanced down to the baby between them and Will tugged on Ben's foot. "You're gonna be good for your Aunt Emma, aren't you, Ben." _

_Ben smiled and gurgled. _

"_See?" Will gestured. "He's totally cool with it." _

"_You speak 'baby' now?" _

"_I'm like Robert Redford in that movie…" _

"_What movie?" _

"_The horse movie." _

"The Horse Whisperer_?" _

"_Yeah, but you know… with babies. The Baby Whisperer." _

"_Oh boy," Emma rolled her eyes. "Ben, don't ever, ever listen to your Uncle Will." _

_Emma had braced herself for a smartass comeback, but Will stayed surprisingly silent._

"_What's wrong?" _

_He shrugged. "You called me 'Uncle Will." _

"_Well, yeah. You will be." _

"_I've never been somebody's uncle." _

_Emma frowned. "Terri has three nephews." _

"_Heathens don't count." _

The longer Emma drove into the night, the more deserted the roads became. Normally, she liked solitude, reveled in it, even. But ever since she had moved in with Will, she had grown accustomed to having another person near her. No, not just another person. Him.

His toothbrush in the holder next to the sink, his razor in the shower, his shoes next to hers, his Fruit Loops next to her Muesli. She had gotten used to his bad eating habits and his knack for flipping between sports highlights and Saturday morning cartoons. She had fallen in love with his aftershave and the fact that he woke up ten minutes before the alarm every morning, just to hold her in his arms before starting his day.

She still needed her solitude, a moment alone as she listened to Joni Mitchell, gave herself a manicure, or just pondered the meaning of life. Moments of "alone" were vital to a co-habitation, she was learning. But still, her solitude was made easier knowing he was in the next room ready and willing to drop everything the moment she emerged.

The silence in her solitude now was deafening, the voices in her head drowning out the noises of the road. Her conscience was verbally berating her for destroying him, especially on such a special night; her heart was hating her for cracking it; her stomach was rebelling because of the guilt eating away at her.

The devil on her shoulder tried to find her innocence in the situation, whispering things like, "Why wasn't he falling apart like you were?" or "Why didn't he notice that you were holding on by a very thin thread?" Emma never really had a very devilish side, though, so its arguments were weak and unfounded.

Will was dealing in his own way. He was by no means unaffected by what had happened four months ago. He was keeping it together for her sake and she knew that because she had heard him on more than one occasion sobbing in the bathroom at three in the morning when he thought she was sound asleep. She desperately wanted to go to him, to turn his own words around and tell him that he wasn't alone, that they were in it together.

"_Whatever the outcome, we can handle this. We'll do it together,"_ he had said.

Emma gripped the steering wheel and pushed harder on the gas pedal because she knew that Will would never do to her what she had just done to him.

_The apartment got cold at night, colder than her own, and she was ill prepared in her silk nightgown and bare feet. Unable to sleep, she had padded out into the living room, bobbing and weaving through the maze of boxes. In one of them were her winter pajamas, but the problem was that most of the boxes were labeled "clothes."_

_Will was currently sprawled out on the bed, snoring away his afternoon of lugging her personal items. Emma, on the other hand, was wide-awake in this new environment. Well, it wasn't entirely new. She had slept there before, but never had she slept there knowing there was no going home tomorrow. This was her home now. _

_She curled up on the couch, tucking her cold legs beneath her and just observed. Her boxes invaded like a foreign army and she should have been panicking over the chaos but she could only chuckle. She hadn't realized how much stuff she actually owned until it was time to move it. _

"_Hey," Will's voice was scratchy and he squinted in the light from the lamp on the side table. "What's wrong?" _

_She smiled as she took in his appearance: disheveled hair, five o'clock shadow, bleary eyes, and adorable yawn. _

"_Couldn't sleep. Did I wake you?"_

_He shook his head. "I reached for you and got only bedding." He smiled and she shivered inadvertently. "You're cold."_

"_I can't find my pajamas," she offered by way of explanation. With a nod, he disappeared into the bedroom and she heard a distant curse as his foot collided with what could only have been the dresser. He emerged a moment later carrying a pair of plaid, flannel pants and an old McKinley High sweatshirt. _

"_They're clean," he mumbled, before gently tugging her legs out from under her and easing the pants up her body. _

_She smiled softly as she let him dress her, holding her arms up as he slid the sweatshirt over her head. When she was all bundled up, he gave a stubborn tug on the sleeve hanging over her hand. _

"_Come back to bed now." _

_She chuckled. "You're like a kid who lost his teddy bear." _

"_Found it." And with that, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her back to his room. _

_Their room. _

Emma hit her high beams as she turned onto the old country road. A yellow sign warning of deer reflected her headlights back at her and she squinted through the thick darkness. She spotted lights up again, confirming that her father continued to leave the outside lights on all right, much to her mother's consternation.

The clock blinked 4:17 and she groaned as she turned into the driveway.

_He had chased her down in a beam of fading sunlight, an empty hallway that echoed his footsteps and halted hers. _

Emma trudged up the front walk of her childhood home, the hours of driving and reminiscing taking their physical and emotional toll.

_Her head was still reeling from the kiss he pressed to her lips and her heart thudded at the expectant look cautiously gracing his face. Her breath escaped on the whisper of a smile, one that he hesitantly returned._

Before she could reach out for it, the front door swung open and her mother stood silhouetted against the hall light. "Emma."

_She glanced from him down to the box he had removed from her arms and placed on the floor. "Now what?"_

"Mama…" Emma frowned. "How'd you know…" She trailed off as her gaze was drawn just over her mother's shoulder to the person sitting at the kitchen table across from her father, head in his hands.

"_Stay." His hands slid from her back, down her arms, to her hands. "Stay with me." _

"Will."


	24. Allegations

_Allegations_

Emma remained rooted to her spot in the foyer, as if her feet had been fused to the rug. She vaguely registered her mother's presence beside her, but her sole focus was on the broken man sitting at her kitchen table, staring into a cold cup of coffee, unable to meet her gaze.

Her father stood and clapped a heavy hand on Will's shoulder, holding on a little longer than normal, before making his way over to her.

"Glad you're home, Ladybug," he said, placing a kiss on her forehead. "I'm heading to bed. Addy?"

Her mother nodded and placed a kiss on her cheek, hesitating for the briefest of moments on the bottom step before following her husband up the stairs.

The bag Emma had hastily packed fell from her shoulder to the floor with a thud.

"Will…"

"A plane takes half the time." He finally looked up and the pain on his face robbed her of her voice. "Remember?"

She couldn't speak, she couldn't even nod, as he pushed his chair away from the table and began washing his mug.

"Look, I was just waiting until you made it. I'm going to bed. It's been a very long 24 hours."

She tried to catch his facial expression reflected in the window above the sink, but he kept his head down.

"Will, I think we should talk."

"Emma, I've been talking for the last four hours. I've talked about fake engagements, real engagements, rings left in notes and, yes, miscarriages." He slammed the mug down on the drying rack and finally spun around. "Frankly, I'm all talked out."

He stalked past her, but she couldn't leave it at that. She wanted to keep him here, with her, for as long as possible, so she grabbed his arm and turned him to her.

"Please, Will."

"What do you want me to say?" His eyes searched hers as he reached into his pocket and held up the ring. "Oops, I think you dropped something?"

Her shoulders slumped and she released his arm. "Why are you here?"

"Why do you think?" When he got no reply, he turned and started up the stairs but he only made it three steps before he stopped and his shoulders slumped. "I told you I'd always run after you, Emma."

And with that, he bounded up the remaining stairs and disappeared into the dark of the hallway.

There was no point in following him. She wouldn't make it beyond the doorframe of the guest bedroom. She trudged into the kitchen and glanced out the window. It was still dark, but the color on the horizon was proof that morning wasn't too far behind. She sat in Will's chair, running her fingers over the worn wood. She had eaten many a breakfast and after-school snack at the small table, while dinners were reserved for the mahogany model in the adjoining room.

She missed the nights that were nightmare free, where she and Will would make reckless love and not worry about the consequences. She missed their heart to hearts and the way she could look at him and see anything other than his blood stained hands.

She sat there until the sky turned from black to purple and she wished more than anything that she take a brush and paint her life a different color. It was the last thought to cross her mind before she drifted into the safe grasp of slumber.

She woke after what seemed like five minutes, vaguely registering the smell of coffee and a sharp pain in her neck.

"Rise and shine, Baby Girl."

Emma groaned and lifted her head, squinting her eyes in the sunlight streaming through the kitchen window. Her mother's hand kneaded the back of her neck and Emma leaned into her touch.

"What time is it?"

"9:45."

Emma stretched and accepted the mug of tea her mother handed her. "So last night really happened."

Adeline brushed Emma's hair out of her face. "Indeed it did."

"Where's Will?"

"He left with your father early this morning."

Panic seized Emma's chest and it must have been written all over her face because her mother was quick to reassure her that Will's things were still in his bedroom and that her father was not driving him to the airport.

She rushed to the window, just to be sure, and saw the blue rental car that she had failed to notice the night before still parked next to her father's pickup truck.

"They took my car," her mother offered.

Emma exhaled the breath she had been holding and leaned against the windowsill for support. The mug warmed her cold hands and her breath fogged up the window. Will really was here. He really did leave the trophy on the dining room table and drive to the airport, beating her to her parents' house.

Emma turned away from the blue car and all it represented to find her mother studying her.

Emma sighed. "I don't want to talk about it, Mama."

"Honey, why didn't you tell me?"

Pain erupted in Emma's chest and her words lodged in her throat. "I didn't…" She put her mug down and pinched the bridge of her nose, one of many of Will's habits that she was slowly adopting. "I can't…" she trailed off as her voice wavered. "Mama…"

Adeline was across the room in three strides, taking her daughter in her arms.

"It's okay, baby. I've got you."

Emma leaned into the embrace and released her tears into her mother's robe.

"These things happen, honey." She ran her hands up and down Emma's back. "And there's nothing we can do about it. I wish I could."

"I just…" Emma pulled away and wiped her eyes. "I just feel so empty."

"I know you do." Adeline led her back to the table and sat her down.

"And Will," Emma sobbed as his name left her lips, "he just seems so... okay."

"Oh honey," Adeline pushed Emma's hair off her face again, "Will is many things but okay is not one of them. Had you been here when he arrived, it would have been all the proof you needed."

Emma took a shaky sip of her tea and continued her futile efforts to dry her face. "What if I can't…" she trailed off and shook her head, as if the idea was too terrifying to pass her lips.

"Have a baby?" her mother asked and Emma nodded, grateful she could fill in the blanks.

"He just wants one so badly, and I do too, but what if we can't?" The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could draw them back. "I can't go through this again. I mean we only had two days. Two days of being blissfully happy. Two days of buying baby books and imagining a nursery and then… it was all just taken away." Emma released a shaky breath and stared at the grooves in the wooden table. "It happened four months ago. I thought I was okay, Mama. I really did."

"Sometimes these things hit us just when we think we're safe. But you can't run from it, honey."

"I know." Leave it to her mother to give voice to her conscience. Emma had been telling herself that for weeks.

"Have you and Will talked about it?"

"We did in the beginning, but… it sort of became taboo." Emma bit her lip and glanced out the window, as the vision of Will standing at the sink haunted her. "Where is he?"

"Your father took him out for pancakes."

"Is Daddy being nice?"

Adeline sighed. "Contrary popular opinion, your father really does like Will. And when he showed up on our doorstep at one in the morning, I'm pretty sure he sealed his place in your father's heart."

"Did he really look that bad?"

"Let's just say, I won't go into detail."

Emma dropped her head into her hands as Adeline placed a hand on her arm.

"He loves you, baby girl. Don't punish him for it."

Emma spent the remainder of the morning soaking in a hot bath as her memories continued their assault. She thought of movie nights and sneak-attack kisses, birthday presents and presents "just because." But as the bubbles dissipated and the water cooled, the pain in her chest only grew stronger.

"_I was _this_ close." Will's drunken gaze attempted to hone in on the fingers he pressed together. "This close." _

"_Of course you were, honey." _

"_Are you patronizing me?" _

"_Oh lord, you're one of those." _

"_One of whose?" _

"_One of those people that still manages to use big words when intoxicated." _

"_My college education is paying off." _

"_Clearly." _

"_Are you mocking me?" _

"_What reason would I have to mock? Other than the fact that your tie is on backwards, you have mustard on your cheek, and your shirt is inside out." _

"_Bieste got me to play strip poker." _

"_What?" She released her grip on his waist and he fell to the floor._

"_Kidding," he groaned. _

"_Oh, so you're a comedic drunk too, now." _

"_Only on Thursdays." _

She submerged herself in the water and listened to the pop of the air bubbles as they died on the surface, running her palms over her flat stomach. She'd have been almost six months along by now. The thought stole the rest of the air in her lungs and she exploded out of the water, gasping for breath and wiping the moisture from her eyes that she stubbornly wouldn't admit were tears.

The hum of a car engine confirmed that Will and her father had returned. Her stomach knotted and she listened as the front door creaked open and her mother made some sort of muffled exclamation. The continued commotion drew her out of the tub, and she wrapped a robe around her waist, threw on the first clothes she could find, and descended the stairs, wondering what all the noise was for. As she rounded the corner, she froze to find her parents blocking her view of Will as they hovered over him.

"What's going on?"

Her father turned and held his hands up. "Now, Ladybug, don't panic."

Always Emma's favorite words to hear.

"It looks worse than it is."

"What looks worse…" She trailed off as her father stepped aside and she saw Will, sitting in the chair with a blood-soaked towel pressed to his head.

"Oh my God!" Emma rushed forward and kneeled in front of him. "What happened?"

"It's completely my fault. We were at Doc's farm and Will had a bit of an altercation with a tractor."

"With a tractor?" Emma practically screeched.

"Clearly I won."

She rolled her eyes at Will's attempt at humor and took the towel from his hands. She tried to catch his gaze, but he kept it firmly on the drops of blood marring the hardwood floor.

"What were you doing at Doc's?" Adeline asked.

"He had a new clay pigeon shooter that I wanted to see."

"What did I tell you about shooting?"

Emma ignored her parents' argument, letting it become background noise to the thoughts flying through her head. She bit her lip in an effort to keep it from wobbling as she dabbed at the crusty blood staining his skin. Her ears began to ring and she took deep breaths in an effort to keep the panic at bay.

She vaguely heard her mother say that Will was in good hands as she led her father away, but all Emma could focus on was the red stain on Will's shirt and the drops that spattered the floor like shrapnel, leading a trail from the front door to the seat which he now occupied.

Will gently touched her cheek. "You all right?"

Her eyes snapped to his and she nodded unconvincingly. "It's just… I haven't seen this much blood since…"

"I know." His thumb traced her skin and she closed her eyes. "You don't have to do this. I can't take of it myself."

Her eyes opened as he dropped his hand. "Don't be silly." She stood and pulled out the first aid kit that her mother kept in the cabinet.

"Ironic that we were at _Doc's_ farm yet he was the first to faint."

"He doctors cocktails, not people," she muttered.

"So I've learned. He gave me a shot of whiskey to dull the pain."

She smirked as shook a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. "Did it work?"

"It dulled the pain, but not the one I was hoping for."

The bottle stilled in her hand and she stared at the kitchen counter. He had every right to make the remark but it still hurt.

"Why'd you leave me?"

The question was so quiet, so simple, yet it sliced through her to the bone. "I wasn't leaving because of you." She kneeled back down in front of him and soaked a cotton ball with the antiseptic. "This is going to sting."

"Tell me about it," he responded, and she knew he wasn't talking about the cut.

A tear fell from her cheek as she removed the towel and pressed the cotton ball to his bloody forehead. He hissed and closed his eyes as she dabbed, realizing the cut only ran the length of his eyebrow. From the blood on the floor, one would have guessed that he split his head open.

She cleared her throat. "Daddy was right. It's not as bad as it looks."

She felt him studying her face as she cleaned the cut and butterflied it shut.

"Emma," he stilled her hand and turned her face to his. "This isn't us. This isn't what we do. You talk to me about this stuff. You don't leave." A tear fell from his eye, cutting a track through the dried blood on his cheek. "I thought we were done leaving each other."

She closed her eyes again, pressing out a tear, but he didn't let go of her wrist or her chin. Her heart hammered against her ribcage and she stared at the stain on his cotton shirt, the red that had dried to brown.

"What if I'm not enough?"

He released his grip on her. "What?"

"What if I can't… have a baby? And what if that's not enough?" She hated how much the fear shook her words and she was shamed into staring at the warning label on the bottle.

"Emma," he took her face in his hands, "you have always been all I've ever needed. And I'm so sorry if I ever made you think otherwise. It's always been you." He smiled and held her tighter. "You're my endgame. I begin and end right here."

"But it was my fault!" The admission tore itself from her chest and she buried her face in her hands. Will dropped to his knees and firmly took hold of her shoulders.

"It was _not_ your fault. Do you hear me? It was not your fault." He removed her hands from her face and wiped her tears from her eyes. "These things happen, Emma. They do. But you can't run away from it. It's life. And sometimes it sucks and sometimes it shatters your heart to pieces, but you can't let that stop you from living it."

She made a noise that was half laugh, half sob. "You came after me."

"Of course I did," he laughed as his tears fell. "I told you I would."

She grabbed his face and kissed him and he murmured an "ow" against her lips.

"Sorry," she said as she pulled away, lightly running her finger across his band-aid. "How did this happen again?"

He shrugged. "I bobbed when I should have weaved."

"Didn't they teach you all about bobbing and weaving at jazz-hand camp?"

"Ouch." Will chuckled and pulled her to him again as she kneeled in between his knees and buried her face into his chest.

"Are we okay?" Her question was muffled by his shirt.

He placed a kiss in her hair and squeezed her tighter. "We will be."

She nodded and inhaled the familiar scent of fabric softener and Old Spice, tainted by copper.

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologize." He kissed her head again. "Last night, you asked me why I was here…"

"It was a stupid question," she interrupted.

"But I have an answer." He tucked her hair behind her ear. "Part of being someone's other half means knowing when they need a hug, right?" He echoed her own words back at her and she crumbled, sobbing into his chest.

He rocked her back and forth and whispered into ear, but what he said, she wasn't quite sure. She listened to her father's footsteps above her, no doubt pacing as he wondered when he was allowed back downstairs, and she took comfort in Will's warm hands rubbing circles on her back.

"I have to leave, you know," Will murmured against her temple.

"What? When?" She pulled away, panic in her eyes.

"In about an hour. My flight's at three."

Her stomach dropped. "But…" Emma didn't even know where to begin. "But you just got here."

"I can't miss anymore school, Em. My AP kids have a test tomorrow, my freshmen the day after that. I just came here to make sure, you know, you didn't run too far away from me."

"Will…" She sat back and stared up at him, not caring that she had blood on her hands or his tears in her hair.

"But if for one second, you think this is your fault, I'll know and I swear to God, I'll be on the next plane out here. Got it?"

She nodded, knowing he meant every word. "Got it."

"I have to go get cleaned up." He stood and held out his hand. "Help me?"

She allowed him to hoist her up and she held onto his arm as she regained feeling in her legs.

As they ascended the stairs, she was vaguely reminded of the first time they made love and how they had to pause midway through because of a little incident involving pasta sauce. Though the stain on his shirt was less benign, the circumstances were just as inconvenient.

Emma pulled ruined cotton over his head and ran a warm washcloth over his neck and chest where the dried blood had caked onto his skin.

"I don't get to run after _you _this time, do I."

Will shook his head. "I want you to take as much time as you need. And if that's a week, a month," his breath hitched, "I'll wait. But, yes, I hope you'll run back to be eventually."

Her heart hurt at the thought of going a month without him and as she buttoned up his collared shirt, she memorized every detail, just in case it was a while before she got to do it again.

"Call me when you land?"

"If you want me to."

"I want you to."

"Then keep your phone on." He zipped his duffle bag shut and sighed as he reached into his pocket. "Em, I, uh… I think I'm gonna hang onto this for a while." He opened his hand to reveal the diamond engagement where it sat secure in the cup of his palm.

"What?" Fear crept up Emma's body as he closed his fingers around the piece of jewelry and slid it back into his pocket.

"I think you need time, Em. You said so yourself."

"But… I wasn't in my right mind! I was a disaster!" She felt the hysteria take hold as she moved between him and the door, as if her tiny frame would be enough to stop him from walking out of it. "It's one thing to take time to grieve, it's another to not be engaged anymore."

"Emma, you took the ring off, remember? You left it for me in a note."

"Are you…" her voice was so small, he had to lean in to hear, "Are you breaking up with me?"

"No." He shook his head. "Absolutely not. I'm just saying that I think you need time. And when you're done, I'll be here. And so will the ring."

"But…" she trailed off, her argument lost somewhere between her head and her mouth. She both loved and loathed that he knew her better than she knew herself.

"I already called Figgins and told him you needed a leave of absence. The year's almost done anyway and he said that whatever recommendations you needed to write could be emailed. He'll bring in a sub for your appointments."

Her jaw was slack as she listened to him rattle off the duties that she no longer had to attend to. She should have been angry that he had done all of this behind her back, but she didn't have the energy for any emotion stronger than disbelief.

Maybe he had been right when he told her four months ago that it was too soon to go back to work. Maybe she should have listened as he advised her to take some time off and wrap her mind around what they had lost.

"Emma." Her head snapped to his and he took her face in his hands. "I want you to know that I love you. I love you more than anything. And when you're ready, you know where to find me."

"But… we're still together, right?"

"Always and forever," he whispered.

The ring had been her security blanket, her proof that no matter where she was or what she was feeling, she was bonded to him. Yet she just tossed it away with paper, a pen, and a one-line note.

"Don't go."

"I have to."

"Will, please."

"Emma," his voice hitched and tears clouded his eyes, "I know I usually cave in to you in all areas, but… I can't this time. I'm sorry."

"I love you," she pleaded, as if that declaration would stay his hand on the knob.

"I know," his voice wavered. "Come home soon for me, okay?"

With a final kiss to her forehead, he left her sitting on the bed as he walked out the door.


	25. Distances

_Distances_

They started off with safe topics:

… "_My Mom's trying to fatten me up. She says I'm too skinny." _

…"_The kids miss you." _

They waded deeper into the waters:

"_Are you okay?" _

"_Why wouldn't I be?" _

"_I used to hear you crying in the middle of the night."_

"_I'm fine." _

They danced around the topic altogether:

…"_I'm thinking of getting Chinese tonight." _

… "_Doc says sorry about the tractor. Again." _

But they had yet to dive in. She thought it would be easier over the phone, not having to see the pain flood his face or the tears pool in his eyes. Turns out that not being able to hold him trumped any advantage a phone call might have had.

Emma rubbed her eyes as she ended yet another constrained phone call. She and Will had made avoiding the subject an art form. In the 10 days since she had watched her father walk Will out to his blue rental car, she had spent her days playing solitaire and eating apple pie instead of discovering that inner peace she had been determined to find at the offset.

Will called every evening like clockwork and they'd talk about their days, more Will's than hers, since she didn't really have anything to report on. "Yes, I actually got out of my pajamas. No, I haven't come to terms with the fact that we lost our baby." That was all she wanted to say sometimes, but Will always seemed to sense her frustration before she could give it voice. He'd steer the topic into safer territory by telling her something amusing that the kids had said or reminding her of something stupid he had done in the past.

"_Are there supposed to be pieces leftover?" _

"_There can be." _

"_No there can't. It says so right here." _

"_That's a mistake." _

"_You did it wrong, didn't you." _

"_Nuh huh." _

"_Did you read the directions?" _

"_A real man doesn't need to read the directions." _

"_A real man also doesn't build a lopsided entertainment unit."_

"_What are you talking about? That thing is as straight as an… okay it's a little crooked." _

"_Aw, is your pride hurt?" _

"_My pride is fine." _

"_Oh good, because if you plan on fixing it, you might want to read the directions first."_

"_Smartass." _

Emma shook her head and focused on the flowers blooming in the backyard. Her mother was on her knees in the dirt every morning as her father read his law journals at the table. Emma would sit on the back deck with a book and watch as her mother dug into the earth.

"Did you talk to Will last night, honey?"

Emma nodded. It was the same question her mother always asked and she always asked because she never got the answer she wanted. Adeline Pillsbury loved her daughter with every fiber of her being and she wanted nothing more than her happiness, but she knew that her daughter's happiness relied solely on a young man who was currently 10 hours away. So every time she asked if Will had called, Emma knew it was her mother's not-so-subtle way of asking if she should be filling up her daughter's gas tank for the trip home.

"Mama?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Did you ever think…" she picked at the peeling paint on the Adirondack chair, "I mean, when you met Will, did you know…"

"That he was the one?"

Emma blushed and nodded.

"Well," Adeline sat back and wiped her hands on her khakis. "My first thought was that he has very nice hair."

"Mama…"

"What? I did! He does!" Adeline chuckled as Emma glared. "Emma, he's the first boy you brought home. Though I'm not thrilled that you lied about your engagement in the beginning, I am happy that Will was quick enough on his feet so you didn't have to enter that ICU alone."

"So he really did tell you everything."

"We had over three hours to kill before you showed up, sweetheart. We weren't exactly going to discuss the weather."

Emma leaned back into the chair and stared at a rabbit as it skittered through the trees at the edge of the yard.

"I noticed you're not wearing your ring anymore."

"I don't want to talk about it, Mama."

"Isn't that what you came here to do? Talk?" Adeline stood and perched on the arm of Emma's chair. "Look, baby girl, your life is your own, but please give me a warning if Will isn't about to be my new son-in-law. I've grown somewhat attached to him."

Emma couldn't help but smile at her mother's words, despite what she was implying.

"We're still together. We're just… taking time."

"Time is good."

Yes, that's what people kept telling her. It seemed that time was all Emma had and as she counted down the minutes until the lasagna was ready to be taken out of the oven, she cursed the creator of the egg timer. She mindlessly flipped through a magazine that was three months old, admiring some of the fashion and scrunching her nose in disdain at the gossip.

"Dinner almost ready?" Her father walked into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge.

"What happened to you healthy, 'let's not tempt the heart-attack' diet?"

He leveled his gaze at her. "I'm allowed a beer every now and then."

"Uh huh."

He searched the drawer for a bottle opener. "Do you doubt me?"

"No, Daddy, why would I ever have a reason to doubt you."

"I sense sarcasm."

She flipped a page. "Good for you."

Her father popped open the bottle and took a sip, eyeing the magazine. "Heavy reading?"

"Hey, Daddy?" Emma ignored him. "What did you and Will talk about?"

"When?"

"Over pancakes."

Her father shrugged. "We talked about regular or decaf."

"Daddy."

"Emma," he echoed. "That's between him and me, sweetheart. But…" He took a seat at the table and she sensed that the lighthearted conversation was about to take a deeper turn. "Did you ever think that maybe he's hurting because you're hurting? That maybe neither of you can heal until you do it together?"

Leave it to the lawyer to be logical.

"Think about it, Ladybug." He patted her cheek and returned to the study.

And think she did. In fact, his words haunted her for the rest of the night, stealing the taste from her lasagna and the breath from her lungs. She paced the length of her childhood bedroom, the phone resting in the palm of her hand, as she thought about what she had come here to do and why she hadn't done it yet.

At 7:59, it buzzed.

"You're early."

He scoffed. "By 30 seconds."

She sat on the bed and tucked her legs under her. His voice was comforting and she wanted to wrap it around her like a blanket.

"How's your head?"

"I'm developing a very manly scar. I told the kids I got into a bar fight."

She laughed. "And did they believe you?"

"Brittany did."

"Score one for you."

Silence.

"How are you?"

It was a benign question, but she knew what he was gently prodding for. He never asked her outright if she had had any revelations or made any progress, but the question still made her feel like she was sitting in a pressure cooker.

"I'm fine. Hey, what did you and Daddy talk about over pancakes?" Misdirection.

"I'm not telling. And you're avoiding the question."

"Oh, come on! Daddy wouldn't tell me anything."

"Now you're just ignoring the question."

_Dammit. _More silence.

"I love you."

She closed her eyes as a renegade tear made its way down her cheek. He had a habit of saying exactly what she needed to hear without prompting or provocation.

"I love you too," she whispered. "And you know how I am, Will. I'm doing so well that I ran out on the best thing to ever happen to me."

"Good thing I caught you then."

She picked at the tassel hanging from the pillow on her bed. It was fraying, just like her nerves.

"How are _you_, Will?"

"Emma, we've talked about this. I'm fine."

"No you're not."

"This break is for you, not me."

"Maybe it's for both of us."

"Em…"

"I miss you. I miss you so much it hurts." She wiped another tear away and tugged the tassel harder. "I miss hearing the thump of your heart when I put my head on your chest. I miss running my fingers through your hair and getting it to stick straight up like it does in the mornings. I miss you singing in the shower. The showers here are just quiet and boring." He chuckled as she continued. "I miss rolling over and accidentally kicking you, because all you do is pull me tighter."

"I miss you too, Em, but I'm not gonna tell you to come home, as much as I'd like you to."

Will was right and she knew it. She needed to come home on her own and having Will beg her back would only break her more than she already was.

"I have to go."

"Em, don't."

"Really, Will, I need to."

"Emma, don't do this."

"I love you."

"Emma."

"Goodnight." She clicked the phone shut and closed her eyes, succumbing to the onslaught of emotion that threatened to take hold as soon as that pleading tone entered his voice.

_It was Will's movement as he shot up in bed that woke her instead of the banging coming from the other side of the apartment. He was out of bed before she could even register what exactly was going on. _

_Wrapping a blanket around herself, she followed her wayward fiancé into the living room and flicked the light on to find Will in nothing but his boxers brandishing a baseball bat, as his head whipped back and forth looking for the supposed intruder. _

_She snorted. "Will, honey, as charming as your knight-in-shining armor side is, it's just the pipes." _

"_What?" he croaked as his clueless gaze followed her finger to the banging coming from the pipe in the kitchen. _

_He lowered the bat to the ground. "So you don't need saving?" _

"_No," she bit her lower lip as she smiled. "But it was awfully sweet of you to ask." _

"Well, Miss Emma! Long time no see."

Emma rolled her eyes but laughed as the heavy door of the dark pub slammed shut behind her.

"Hello, Bruno."

"Long Island Iced Tea?" He held up a bottle of vodka with giddy anticipation.

"Absolutely not," she said as she slid onto the barstool.

"Bummer. Where's your DD?"

"My DD?"

"Yeah, the guy with the curly hair who kept throwing me evil glares every time I fixed you another."

"Oh." She had come here to escape Will, yet it seemed his ghost followed her everywhere.

"Lover's quarrel?"

She smirked. "Something like that."

"Well," he slapped the bar. "Don't let it get you down. How about a beer?"

The beer was bitter as she swallowed it down and the smell of cigarette smoke hovered in the air, despite the no smoking rule.

"So where is the other half?"

Bruno was nothing if not persistent and she choked as the alcohol got caught in her throat. "Ohio."

"Ohio. What's in Ohio?"

She took another gulp, not liking where the conversation was going. "Home."

"And," Bruno leaned his elbows on the bar, "why aren't you home?"

"It's a long story." She wished her voice sounded sturdy enough to fit in with the battered wood and tattooed bartender.

He dried a pint glass with a clean towel and leveled her with his gaze. "I've got time."

The Righteous Brothers came over the jukebox and Emma groaned, dropping her head in her hands.

"Ugh, I can't win!"

"I can unplug it, you know."

"It's not the song, I just…" Emma bit her lip. She would not cry in the middle of a bar, she would not cry in the middle of a bar. "He's a really great guy."

"Yeah, I know. Any guy who lets you get totally mashed at noon yet manages to teach you pool and get you home in one piece is all right by my book."

"That's a pretty odd book."

He shrugged. "Yeah, well, working in a bar gives you a warped view of things."

Or a perfect view of things. Emma stared into the amber liquid in her glass and sighed. "We were engaged. We had a miscarriage. I ran away. He came after me."

The towel in his hand stilled and he set the pint glass back on the bar. Another beer appeared in front of her and that was all Bruno said on the matter.

The crack of queue against ball startled Emma but she refused to look over because all she could see was Will.

_"All right, now just aim and hit."_

She closed her eyes and saw her disastrous attempt that sent the #2 ball bouncing across the floor. She wanted to be as strong as that pool ball, to get hit with a stick and smash onto a concrete floor, yet remain unscarred.

"Bruno, am I broken?"

He lifted an eyebrow. "You look pretty put together to me, Miss Emma."

"Appearances can be deceiving."

He leaned on the bar again and stroked his goatee. "Do you feel broken?"

Emma nodded. He placed another beer in front of her and held out his hand.

"Give me your keys and your phone. I'm driving you home."

"What? Why?"

"You're 110 pounds soaking wet. You don't strike me as the type who can hold her liquor. And the fact that you're already slurring is not helping your case."

She huffed and handed over what he asked for, knowing full well that drunk dialing Will would not go over well.

So at 8:00 she watched as her phone rattled next to the register behind the bar and she felt the slightest twinge of guilt for disrupting their pattern. She had grown to rely on his calls, and his voice, before she went to bed. And though one half of her was tempted to launch over the bar and pick it up, the sober half told her to wait until morning. Will would still be there. He wasn't going anywhere.

Her words to Bruno echoed in her ear and she realized that maybe it was as simple as that: we were engaged, we had a miscarriage, I ran away, he came after me. She repeated the phrase over and over in her head until she could whisper it without crying and say it without sobbing.

As Bruno shut the lights off and held the door open for her, she paused in the entryway and looked him straight in the eyes.

"We were engaged. We had a miscarriage. I ran away. He came after me. I'm okay."

"You're okay," he echoed.

"I'm okay," she repeated, just for safety's sake.

"Let's get you home, Miss Emma."

Home. It wasn't home. Home was over 400 miles away. But there was something to be said for finding yourself in a dingy bar on a Saturday night.

A rattling noise infiltrated her dreams and she swatted away at some imaginary bug until her hand collided with the lamp and she was rudely jostled into consciousness. She reached for the phone and squinted as the background illuminated the only name she'd drop everything for at three o'clock in the morning.

"Will?"

"Listen, I need to talk and I just need you to listen so if you could do that for me, I'd really, really appreciate it."

His voice was hurried, frantic even, and it had her more alert than a shot of espresso.

"Will, are you - "

"I'm not okay. I'm not fine. I know I've told you that I am, but I'm not. I can't… breathe sometimes because it hurts so much. And knowing you're hurting makes it a million times worse. We lost a baby, Em, and we can't just gloss over that fact. I've been trying to be strong for you, but I've reached my limit and I just…" he inhaled and swallowed back a sob, "I just needed to hear your voice."

"I'm here." It was all she could say as her exhausted brain tried to process all that he had just laid out.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"You said… you said that you heard me crying in the bathroom."

Her heart clenched and she wished more than anything that she could wrap her arms around him.

"Yeah, I did. A few times."

"See, I have these nightmares…"

He trailed off and Emma swallowed hard, not entirely sure if she wanted to hear what he was about to say.

"Sometimes all I see is blood, and sometimes, I see a little girl with red curls. I can't see her face, but I know she's ours… and right before I reach her, they take her away."

"Who takes her away?"

"Does it matter?"

Valid question.

"And I don't want to wake you, so I go into the bathroom and run the water, hoping it'll drown out my sobs, but…"

It didn't. Nothing could drown out their pain until they let it run its course. They had spent so much time plugging a cracking dam, they didn't stop to think that they could rebuild after everything crumbled.

The roles were reversed that night. She let him talk about everything he had been holding in for the past four months: how he memorized her features when they gave her a sedative at the hospital, how he returned the baby books when she was at SAT prep, how the kids had kept him sane with impromptu performances and jokes, no matter how bad they were.

They began to heal that night, truly heal, not pretend to heal, and Emma realized that fixing him fixed her, because they were best when they worked together: two halves to a whole.

And as she walked down the hallway the following night with the phone pressed to her ear, she had never been so sure of anything in her life.

"Hang on, my food's here."

"Have you cooked once since I left?" she asked.

"I can't cook without music and I can't listen to music without dancing. I've lost my dancing partner so, you see, there really is no point in cooking."

"Your logic astounds me."

"I should teach philosophy."

The door in front of her swung open and there stood Will, phone pressed to his ear, a $20 bill in his hand, and his jaw hanging slightly open.

"Em."

She clicked her phone shut and smiled.

"I hope I didn't make you wait too long."


	26. Reunions

**I love all of you. Truly.**

_Reunions_

Emma stared at the ceiling, watching a slight crack in the plaster as it guided her gaze from the fan to the spot where the wall met the molding. The late spring air was cool enough at night to not require the air conditioner, but the sheets still stuck to her body, despite the breeze flowing through the cracked window.

Her body temperature may or may not have had something to do with the rather exuberant round of lovemaking that brought their tally for that night to three. She brushed her hair off her forehead and turned, watching the steady rise and fall of Will's chest. He lay next to her, his face buried in her bare shoulder, his arm lazily and protectively draped across her stomach. He hadn't stopped touching her since he opened the door expecting the pizza deliveryman and finding the woman he had thought to be 400 miles away.

Both his phone and the $20 bill fell from his hand as he reached out and cupped her cheek, ensuring she was real, before pulling her to him and crushing her against his chest.

"You're here," he murmured into her hair and she nodded against his shirt.

She pulled away and pressed her lips to his, putting both hands on the side of his head to keep him as close to her as humanly possible. Her fingers threaded through his hair, toying briefly with his ears as she felt him smile against her lips, before drifting down to his collar and playing with the fabric there. She vaguely registered him pulling her into the apartment and she giggled as he kicked the door shut without releasing his lips from hers.

Emma smiled at the memory as she gazed at Will's sleeping form, tracing her finger through the stubble that marked his jaw.

After their initial embrace, he had been hesitant to move further – she could tell by the way he pulled away from their kisses and put some distance between their bodies –but when her lips brushed his ear and she whispered, "Make love to me, William," he replied with a firm, "Yes, ma'am" and picked her up and carried her to the bedroom.

Two weeks they had been apart and it felt like a lifetime. He undressed her carefully, memorizing every inch of her body all over again, as if he needed to relearn her contours; as if she had somehow changed in the past fourteen days. Maybe she had.

He unbuttoned her light jacket and slid off her shoes, unzipped her skirt painfully slowly and ghosted his palms across her hips, causing goosebumps to dot her skin. Her shirt came off next and his eyes drank her in.

"I've missed you," he said, and she knew that he didn't mean just the last two weeks.

"I've missed you, too." Her voice cracked and she reached out to return the favor, slowly unbuttoning his shirt and running her nails across his chest, causing him to shiver. She worked on his belt next, reveling in the hitch of his breath as she palmed him through the front of his jeans. They pooled at his ankles and he stepped out of them, swiftly picking her up as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

Emma blushed at the image and continued to survey the room, as Will shifted in his sleep and pulled her closer. She had surprised even herself when she realized how badly she had wanted him as soon as he opened the door. It had been too long since she was in his arms and it was a situation that needed to be rectified immediately.

She had been good right up until the moment when the rest of their clothing fell to the floor and he moved between her legs. Panic gripped her chest as she thought of how briefly happy they had been and how red the sheets had turned, but all of that disappeared when Will kissed her collarbone and held up the condom wrapper.

"It's okay, sweetheart."

She nodded as he framed her face with his forearms, pressing his nose against hers as he gently pushed in. She held her breath and resisted the temptation to close her eyes against the pleasure and the pain. She wanted to see every emotion flicker across his face and the look of concentration that creased his forehead made her smile. She ran her finger across his brow and he kissed her palm as her other hand made marks on his back.

He pulled out and thrust back in, causing Emma's mouth to drop open in a silent "O."

"Breathe, baby," he whispered hotly in her ear and she inhaled a shuddering gasp.

Yes, it had been too long and they made love languorously the first time, frantic the second, and quite carnal the third, which was how Emma came to be lying in bed with every nerve in her body humming as she surveyed the space she shared with the man lying next to her.

He had grown a little lax in his cleaning since she had been gone and she smiled at the socks on the floor and the overflowing laundry basket. Normally, she'd be too uncomfortable to let it sit there, but she was too content to move from her place. She wasn't sure Will would let her go anyway.

Turning on her side to face him, she was struck by how young he looked: brow furrowed in dream-filled consternation, lips pursed in a sleep-induced pout.

As his leg hooked over hers, she knew that she would have to spend 14 days in bed with him just to recover from the fourteen days without him.

She wouldn't mind one bit.

The sun beat down on the glass windowpanes and Emma shifted uncomfortably in her sleep, tossing the covers off of her and rolling away from the warm body next to her.

But her movement was in vain as Will followed her, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in the back of her neck. His breath was hot against her already flushed skin but she couldn't bear to roll away from him again.

"You're sticky," he whispered.

She smiled as he nuzzled her hair. "So are you."

"I think we should shower."

Though she couldn't see his raised eyebrow, she could hear the suggestiveness in his voice and she giggled.

"I could go for a shower."

"Mm, good," he murmured. "Just give me a minute to stretch first."

She laughed out loud and turned in his arms. "Aw, are you a little sore from last night?"

"Maybe." He grinned.

Emma flung the covers off and stood. "Come on, old man. I'll let you wash behind my ears."

Will was out of bed before she even reached the door.

It took three almost-disasters before Will was finally able to prop Emma up against the tiled wall without one of them having a near-death experience. It was more amusing than passionate and Emma could only giggle and blush her way through breakfast every time she met Will's eyes over his Coco Puffs.

Though they both knew they'd have to more thoroughly discuss what they had begun on the phone, Emma was content to clean what Will had not and shoo him away every time he tried to help. With a final sound of exasperation, he retreated to the couch and watched as she pushed the vacuum across the floor.

"The kids have been asking me when you're coming back."

"What?" she shouted over the noise.

"I said," Will leaned forward, "the kids have been asking me when you're coming back!"

Emma turned the machine off and brushed her hair out of her face. Will looked down at his shoes and shrugged.

"I didn't have an answer for them."

"So they know…" she drifted off, none too thrilled that the teens of McKinley knew that which she didn't even like to think about herself.

"I didn't tell them, but they know."

"Oh." Emma absentmindedly toyed with her bare ring finger as she let the conversation die.

She hated the notion that the kids thought she had hurt their mentor. Well, she had. She just hated that it was common knowledge. She always took pride in the fact that she was one of the few well-liked and well-respected teachers at McKinley. No doubt, she was just knocked down a few pegs in the glee kids' eyes.

The rest of the day was spent tiptoeing around the subject. They talked of Emma's parents and the preparation for Nationals as they wondered whatever had happened to the pizza deliveryman since neither of them could remember hearing the doorbell ring the night before.

It was a night of reminiscing since the past seemed much less frightening than the future. They talked of set lists ("No 80's") and possible pets ("No cats"), of scars (Will's elbow) and stitches (Emma's knee).

Eventually they tumbled into bed, too exhausted from last night's (and morning's) activities to even attempt foreplay.

But the bliss was not mean to last and the alarm was a piercing reminder that, however much they desired, they would not be able to remain in bed all day. Clothes were sorted and coffee poured as they scurried around the apartment trying to find the routine that had grown rusty over the weeks.

Figgins gave a cry of approval as Emma made her way through the doors and his joy attracted the attention of the students loitering in the hallway. A group of glee kids turned her way and she watched as the smiles slid ever so slightly from their faces before stiff grins were put firmly in place. She offered them a small smile and gave a tiny wave to the ecstatic principle as Will kissed her on the cheek.

"I'll see you at lunch?"

She felt herself nod, but she couldn't really process anything besides the looks of fierce loyalty adorning Rachel, Mercedes, and Kurt's faces. If it ever came to sides, she knew whose they'd be on.

The day wore on and no one came to see her. Not Rachel with updates to her ten year plan, not Kurt with a compliment on her cardigan, not Quinn just to say hi.

By the time 11am rolled around, Emma went on the hunt for a friendly face, knowing Will was on a free period. His classroom was empty though, and she made her way to the choir room as the sound of low voices emanated from his office, echoing off the perfectly acoustic walls.

"But you're not, like,… not together… right?" _Finn._

"You mean have we broken up?" _Will._

"Yeah."

"No, we're still together."

Emma could hear the air rush out of Finn's lungs in a deep exhale as he said, "Oh good."

She smiled. At least she had someone on her side.

"I'm just giving Miss Pillsbury the time we didn't exactly have in the beginning," Will explained. "I don't think she's… _we're_ ready."

Will was ready, Emma knew that. He was just saving her some dignity by saying the fault lay with both of them. But Emma _was _ready. She wanted what Will had dreamt about; she wanted that little girl with her mother's hair and her father's eyes. She wanted the big white wedding with the dark navy and deep orange theme. And above all, she wanted him, waiting for her at the end of the aisle.

But if he didn't think she was ready, then she'd just have to prove that she was.

"What party?"

Emma emerged from the haze of her thoughts as Will's voice broke through her musings.

"At Puck's," Finn responded. "This Friday."

She glanced through the window in time to see Will roll his eyes.

"Please be careful this time. I don't want to come in Monday morning to find out one of you shaved off your eyebrows again."

Emma snickered, drawing the attention of both men.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to eavesdrop."

Finn stood and hiked his bag up on his shoulder. "It's all right, Miss P. I was just leaving."

She studied his face and confirmed that he did in fact still have both of his eyebrows. She gestured to her own as she asked, "So who was the unfortunate one?"

"Sam." Finn smiled. "He's wearing a band aid to cover it up. Glad to have you back, Miss P," he threw over his shoulder as he left the room.

It was the nicest thing anyone had said to her all day.

It took one more day before the frosty reception from the glee kids dissipated and another for Rachel to hesitantly knock on her office door, and still yet another before Quinn came to chat or Tina smiled through the glass walls.

They were loyal, she'd grant them that. But as the sun disappeared, marking the end of the fourth day of her return, she realized that she and Will had yet to talk about where they stood and what lay ahead for them. And that, according to Emma, was unacceptable.

So as she and Will settled around the kitchen table that Friday night, armed with a bottle of wine, she vowed to not let him leave the premises until they had discussed that which they had been avoiding.

Her heart thudded in its usual manner when he placed a kiss on her head and a plate on her placemat.

"Bon Appetit."

She wanted to be patient in broaching the topic, but apparently her head and her mouth were not on the same page.

"Will, what's going on?"

He paused midway to sitting and raised his eyebrow. "Um, I'm about to sit down and enjoy the meal that I slaved over for all of 45 minutes with my wonderful company. Why? What do you think is going on?" He began to pull his napkin onto his lap.

"Not with dinner. With us."

Will stilled, the napkin lying forgotten on his lap, as Emma took a sip of her wine.

"Please don't act so surprised, we've been dancing around the topic for days."

Will sighed and placed his hands flat on the table. "Okay. Let's talk."

Emma was taken aback. The strength of her resolve lasted only as long as the taste of the wine on her tongue.

"Where are we?"

Will's eyes darted around the kitchen and Emma sighed.

"Not physically."

"I realize that, Em." He gave her a knowing look though it was mixed with humor and patience.

"Where's the ring?"

"Somewhere safe."

She took another sip of wine, ashamed to feel tears pool in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I never should have left it. Never should have even taken it off." Her lower lip wobbled and she pressed the glass to her mouth again in an effort to hide it.

Will immediately reached across the table and wiped the tear that fell down her cheek with his thumb, smiling ruefully.

"No permanent damage done," he whispered.

She closed her eyes and leaned into his palm, relishing the feeling of his calloused hands against her smooth cheek.

"You promise?"

"Promise," he assured her, running his thumb across her lip.

"I just feel like every time we take one step forward, we take ten steps back."

"Emma, no one ever said we had to rush anything. We ran into this, well… stumbled into it is more like… without really pausing to take a look around."

"And this is us pausing?" She hiccupped.

"And this is us pausing."

"But we're, we're gonna un-pause right?" She held her breath as the three seconds it took him to answer compounded tenfold in her mind.

"Emma, I will marry you." The conviction in his voice and the determination on his brow caused a grin to explode across her face.

"And when will that be?"

He smiled, though she could see the underlying pain. "When it feels right."

It felt right to him. She could see it in his eyes. And if she was completely honest with herself, she had seen that look almost a year ago, as he stood in the fading sunlight with both her box and the world at their feet.

He was putting his happiness on hold until she was sure this was what she wanted, that _he _was what she wanted.

The thought caused a lump to choke her throat and not even another sip of wine could clear it. Because she knew that somewhere in the apartment was a ring that was meant to be on her finger and a box full of "Save the Date" cards was collecting dust in the back hall closet.

They finished dinner making small talk, the topic dropped for the time being. The rest of the evening was spent watching a movie until Will received a phone call from a rather drunk Finn asking to be picked up at Puck's party.

Apparently Will's appointment as the designated driver was a new development in the two weeks that Emma had been away. And as she rode with him to the Puckerman household, she found herself sneaking sideways glances as his hands securely gripped the steering wheel, eyes occasionally flicking to the rearview mirror.

She knew they were close by the sheer amount of cars on the block and the thump of the base that rattled the dashboard.

"Oh boy," she muttered.

"No kidding." Will put the car into 'park' and opened the door. "Stay here. I'll be back."

She watched as Will jogged up the front walk, avoiding beer cans, before disappearing into the house. She drummed her fingers against the door, biting her lip as she waited for Will to reappear with Finn.

The evening didn't go exactly as planned and as Will emerged from the house with not just Finn but also Kurt and Rachel, she realized that 'not going as planned' was going to be the theme of the night. She exited the car in time to catch Rachel as she stumbled over the curb.

"What up, Miss P!" Finn held his hand up for a high five, but Emma left him hanging.

"Hello to you too, Finn." Emma smirked as Will managed to open the door with his right hand as his left supported Finn's weight against his own. Kurt made his way down the walkway, acting as if he were completely sober but the zig and the zag of his gait gave him away.

Finn toppled into the backseat, followed by Rachel and then Kurt, all three giggling away.

"Thanks, Mr. Schue," Finn offered.

"We love you, Mr. Schue," Rachel replied.

Will chuckled and shook his head, "Yeah, yeah," before shutting the door and jogging around the car. As Emma slid back into her seat, she listened to the fight going on in the backseat.

"You're taking up too much room, Frankenteen."

"Your ego is in the way."

"You mean my talent!"

"Shut up both of you." Kurt rolled his eyes and leaned his head against the window.

Will started the car and reached over for Emma's hand, placing a kiss on her knuckles.

"Aww, you'll be great married people," Finn rambled. "I mean, a great married couple."

"And have great babies!" Rachel shouted. "I can babysit!"

Will chuckled but Emma saw the nervous look he cast in her direction. The comment didn't hurt as much as she thought it would but she diverted her attention to the drunks in the back all the same.

"So what was the drink of choice?"

"Beer, tequila, vodka," Finn, Rachel and Kurt answered respectively.

"In jello shot form," Kurt offered as an addendum.

"I see," Emma replied, sharing a look with Will as he grimaced.

They pulled up to Rachel's house first and the petite powerhouse climbed over Finn on her way to the door handle.

"I could have gotten out, you know," he slurred which turned into a groan as her knee connected with rather sensitive part of his body.

"Thanks, Mr. Schue."

"You sure you're all right, Rach?" Will asked.

"Perfectly fine. Miss Pillsbury," Rachel leaned her head in the car, "we're very happy you're back. Now, Mr. Schue won't be so mopey."

Will's cheeks flushed as Rachel waved goodbye and trotted up to the front door. Will waited until she was safely inside the house before pulling away from the curb.

"Oh God," Kurt groaned.

"What?" Emma turned around, panic gripping her chest that Kurt was about to be sick in the car.

Kurt looked at Finn. "Your mom's going to kill us."

"Not if your dad gets there first."

Kurt's head lolled to the side and he tapped the back of Emma's seat. "You won't punish your kids for getting drunk, will you Mr. Schue? Miss P?"

Will and Emma shared a look that was indecipherable, yet managed to express so many things. Love, fear, and thoughts of a future that they had suppressed for the past few weeks. Getting back to the question at hand, Emma cocked her eyebrow and nodded, causing Will to smile.

He glanced in the rearview mirror and caught Finn's gaze. "Of course we'll punish them, but the prison term will be less severe as long as they call you to drive them home at the end of the night."

"You got it, Mr. Schue." Finn clapped his hand on Will's shoulder. "I will totally be the DD for your kid."

Will chuckled. "Good to know."

Kurt mock saluted. "My fee as DD is that I get to plan their outfit."

"We'll see," Emma giggled.

They pulled up in front of the Hudson-Hummel household and Kurt and Finn poured themselves out of the car.

"Godspeed!" Will called as Finn supported Kurt on their trek up the walkway.

Emma leaned across the center console and watched as the two boys stumbled into the house. "Are you telling me we have _that _to look forward to?"

"Not for a good sixteen years at least." Will smiled and Emma felt a warm fuzzy feeling bloom in her stomach.

"Twenty if I have anything to say about it," she countered.

Will snorted. "Ha, good luck with that."

It was little moments like that that Emma relished. Tiny conversations made up of so few words that held so much possibility.

The weeks wore on as Emma tried to leave not-so-subtle hints about where she thought she and Will should stand: casually leaving the veil from her old wedding dress on the bed, stuffing a "Save the Date" card into Will's school bag, leaving a wedding website up on the computer.

She'd catch him fingering the veil gently or browsing the wedding website, before shaking his head and powering the computer down. It wasn't much, but it was hope, and Emma was nothing if not an optimistic person.

But as Nationals inched closer, Will spent more and more time with the kids, leaving Emma with fewer opportunities to make clear that it was always, and would always, be him. She was ready. They were ready. She wanted her ring back.

Her hands shook as she pulled the door to the auditorium open and the rush of blood in her ears caused all other noise to be sucked out like a vacuum.

He stood onstage, handing out papers as the kids laughed and practiced choreography. It was a scene she had witnessed many times, a mental picture she carried with her always. But this time it was different.

Her heels echoed around the proscenium as she crossed the stage, causing the laughter to die down as Will's eyes lit up. Her heart thundered and her vision swam, but she kept her voice steady as she cleared her throat and opened her mouth.

"Will Schuester?"

He chuckled as his brow creased in confusion. "Yes, Emma Pillsbury?"

She swallowed once, never having been more terrified or more sure of anything in her entire life. He didn't think she was ready. She wanted to prove that she was. And as she dropped down to one knee, she offered him the biggest piece of evidence she had.

"Will you marry me?"


	27. Precautions

**Apologies about the recent delays. Glee has angered me so much that I had to step away for a mo and take deep breaths. **

_Precautions_

A hush descended the room as a few startled gasps escaped the mouths of the shocked teens, but none of that compared to the look gracing Will's face. He was pale and slack-jawed, his eyes trapped on the spot where she knelt on the hard floor of the stage.

Emma's heart thudded harder against her chest with every silent second that ticked by. _Oh God._ She had just made a huge mistake.

Will cleared his throat, "Guys, can you give us a minute?"

Our of the corner of her eye, she saw the kids' heads dart back and forth between the two adults before they slowly started to make their way offstage.

"But, Mr. Schue, aren't you going" – Rachel was cut off.

"Now, please," he murmured, his gaze never leaving Emma's. His scrutiny was so intense, she had to drop her chin to her chest just to draw breath.

The sound of a distant door closing confirmed that they were in fact alone and, as she stared at the scuffed floor, the tips of Will's shoes entered her line of vision.

"Emma." His tone was an enigma. She sensed love, hurt and humor, all rolled up into a whisper of uncertainty. His finger dipped under her chin and brought her gaze skyward. Her panic and fear had made her completely unaware of the tears pooling in his eyes. He held out his hand and, after a moment of deliberation, she placed her palm in his. He tugged her up and crashed his lips to hers.

"That was my job," he whispered in between kisses.

Emma's brow creased and she pulled back to examine his face. Will was laughing through his tears as he placed another kiss on her nose.

"Was that a yes?"

"Yes, I think that was a yes." Will pulled her tight against his chest and wrapped his arms around her. "I was waiting..."

"I know you were," she murmured against his sweater.

"I would have done it, you know." He kissed her head and she could hear the tone of regret in his voice, as if he was angry with himself for not picking up on her signals.

She pulled away and took his face in her hands. "I know. But I've waited for you my whole life and you'll have to forgive me for not wanting to wait anymore."

He smiled and two tears splash on his cheeks again.

"You better fix your face because I'm pretty sure that twelve teenagers are waiting on tenterhooks just outside the door," she whispered.

Will chuckled and wiped the edge of his sleeve across his cheek. "I love you."

She pressed her lips to his and brushed her nose across his chin. "I love you, too."

With his eyes never leaving hers, he called out, "You can come in now!"

Distant footsteps announced the arrival of the glee kids and in a moment, twelve anxious faces appeared around the curtain.

"Everything okay?" Finn's head was the tallest, therefore the only one who didn't have to stand on tiptoes to see beyond the person peering out in front of him.

Emma pulled away from Will to wipe her eyes, but he kept a firm grip on her waist.

"Everything's perfect," Will said. "I hope you guys were still keeping October 15th available. It looks like your services will be required."

A cheer erupted as the kids ran forward and swarmed the newly re-engaged pair.

"Oh thank goodness because I just did a new mash-up of the wedding march!" The excitement on Rachel's face matched the fear on Will's.

"Um, was there an old mash-up?" Emma asked. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Will shake his head.

"Don't ask," he muttered. She shook with laughter as she continued to watch the kids bounce in front of her.

"Well done, Miss P." Kurt smiled.

"Yeah, Miss P," Finn started, "that was downright ballsy."

Emma didn't quite know what to say to that. "Uh, thank you, Finn."

Will hopped off the stage and helped her down, leading her to a seat in the front row. With Nationals just over a week away, the kids were shoring up their final performances before everyone, Emma included, boarded a plane for New York. She should have been panicked about the trip, by the sheer enormity of the Big Apple, but all she could focus on was the fact that she had just dropped down on bended knee and asked Will Schuester to marry her.

She turned and found him standing in the back of the auditorium. When the kids performed, he wanted to make sure people in the cheap seats still got a good show. His head bopped along with the music and he made occasional notes to share with the kids later.

A warm feeling spread through Emma's chest as she realized that the man who took such care and consideration of a school club held her own happiness in his hands as well. She didn't think she could have a better caretaker.

The performance was flawless and, though Will pumped them up, he was also wary of setting their hopes too high by reminding that they were going up against the best glee clubs in the country and that even fifth place was first in his eyes.

Will watched with pride as the kids filed out of the auditorium and before the door even clicked shut, he turned to Emma and swept her into his arms. She let out an unladylike shriek and giggled as he nuzzled her neck.

"Well, Miss Pillsbury, I believe we have some celebrating to do."

"Indeed, Mr. Schuester, I believe we do."

He carried her all the way through the school and into the parking lot. Emma blushed as they received a few catcalls from some loitering glee kids waiting for their rides and buried her face in Will's shirt.

He managed to get her in the car without knocking her head on the doorframe and she laughed openly as he sprinted to the driver's side.

"Where's the fire?"

He slid behind the wheel and started the car. "There's a piece of jewelry sitting at home that I've missed seeing on your finger."

Tears pricked her eyes and she smiled as he took her hand, brought it to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

"I'm sorry it's taken us so long to get our act together."

She shrugged and smiled. "It'll be a great story for the kids."

Will's smile brightened but he grew abnormally quiet for the rest of the ride. Emma glanced at him occasionally out of the corner of her eye, waiting for him to initiate some sort of conversation, but it never came. She felt the urge to comment on the clouds hovering on the horizon, but she felt that using the weather, the basest of topics, was far too depressing.

The walk to the apartment was just as silent. Will gave her a shy smile as he fished the keys out of his bag, but that was the extent of his expression. They set about making dinner and Emma stared as Will moved about the kitchen with practiced ease, pulling ingredients from cabinets and pans from drawers.

The mood was by no means uncomfortable; Emma couldn't remember the last time she felt this happy. But something was definitely off.

"Do you really think about that?"

Emma paused in sneaking a pepper from the stir-fry. "Think about what?"

The knife Will held in his hand hovered over the defenseless tomato. "Stories for our kids." He put the utensil down and faced her. "Do you really think about that?"

_And the penny drops._ Emma's face softened as she stared into Will's eyes, into his expression of hope and heartache and too much else to discern.

"Of course I do." She slid off her perch on the counter and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I think of how I'll tell them that you ran after me, twice, how you proposed, twice, and how, no matter how many idiotic things I did, you still stuck with me."

"Of course I did." He kissed her nose.

"Doesn't mean I'm not still scared though."

Will's forehead creased. "About what?"

"Not having anyone to tell stories to," she replied, knowing she was wading into rough, but necessary waters.

Will sigh heavily and placed his hands on her waist, rubbing his thumbs over her flat stomach. "Maybe you should see someone."

"What, like a therapist?"

"I was thinking more like an OBGYN."

"What? Why?" she moved away from his grasp and started setting the table to busy herself.

"Just to check to make sure everything's okay. That, you know, we can actually have one one day." His voice was quiet as he finished with, "I did."

Emma snorted. "You saw an OBGYN?"

"No, a fertility doctor."

Emma froze. "What?"

"I wanted to be sure that it wasn't me. I wanted you to have all the facts before you made any, you know, long term decisions." With that, he pulled the ring out of his pocket and shrugged. "I've been carrying it around for a while."

"How long?" Emma asked, though she already knew.

"Since I left Virginia."

The fork Emma had been about to place next to the plate hovered in midair as she stared at the diamond in Will's hand as it caught the kitchen light. His words echoed in her head and she closed her eyes to make sense of the onslaught of information. _"I wanted to be sure that it wasn't me." _

"So it's me…" were the first words out of her mouth and the look of pain that flashed across his face made her wish more than anything that she could bite them back. He crossed the room in two strides and took her face in his hands.

"Emma, it's probably neither of us, but I don't want this hanging over your head and I don't want every negative pregnancy test to send you into a guilt-ridden fit." The ring pressed into her cheek where it still rested in his palm and she closed her eyes, allowing two tears to escape.

"So, um, what did the fertility doctor say? Are you… are you okay?"

Will nodded. "Perfectly capable of impregnating you at a moment's notice."

Emma chuckled and Will smiled. Pressing his forehead to hers, he slipped the ring on her finger and, in that moment, she resolved to make an appointment the following day to put the worry and pain behind her once and for all. After all, she had a wedding to plan.

The rest of the evening was spent alternating between preventing Will from burning dinner and resisting Will's advances as he tried to tug her into the bedroom. She finally relented, but neither gave any thought to actually turning off the stove so the mood was metaphorically doused with a bucket of cold water when the fire alarm blared, causing Will to scramble to the kitchen with his pants around his ankles.

The appointment had been surprisingly easy to make, once she got the courage to actually open her address book. She felt a little silly as she hung up with the receptionist. It wasn't like she and Will were actively trying to get pregnant. They were attempting to do things in order this time: marriage, then babies, but Will was right. This would be hanging over Emma's head until the next time she had to pee on a stick.

"Thanks for coming," Emma said as Will shut her car door and wrapped an arm around her.

"Of course."

"You're just going to end up reading some girly magazine for an hour."

Will nudged her shoulder. "I happen to like girly magazines."

"You would."

"Hey!" Will pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "I'm proud of you. Taking initiative, facing your fears. The Emma Pillsbury I knew two years wouldn't have done this."

"Well, the Emma Pillsbury you knew two years ago has grown up a bit."

But apparently not enough to not be absolutely terrified by the doctor's office. She was bombarded by sights and sounds as she opened the door to the waiting room. The office was shared by OBGYN's, pediatricians, and general practitioners and the bright fluorescents and the sounds of screaming children did nothing to quiet her nerves. Will's hand was on her back in a moment, as if he sensed her tension, and he guided her to the front desk where the receptionist took her name and promptly told her to have a seat and fill out the clipboard.

Will's knee bounced, perhaps the only proof of the anxiety hiding beneath his stoic façade, and Emma gently placed her hand on his leg to stall the movement.

The questions were mundane: date of birth, current medications, family history. She could have answered them in her sleep. Or Will could have answered them for her. He knew almost everything about her, right down to her blood type. He asked her randomly one night as they sat on the couch watching a rerun of _ER. _She turned to him quizzically and he shrugged.

"_Just in case," _he had said.

Currently, he was flipping through a three-month-old edition of _Parenting_ magazine, learning the ins and outs of baby-proofing a house.

"Em, please tell me," he started, holding up the magazine for her, "how exactly does a baby fit its finger in there?" He pointed at an electrical outlet.

"Baby's have tiny fingers," she answered distractedly as she finished up the form.

"But still…" he trailed off and returned to the magazine, utterly confused.

"When are you due?"

The pen fell from Emma's hand as she glanced up at the heavily pregnant woman in the seat across from them. She reached for Will's hand instead. "Excuse me?"

The expectant mother smiled. "You sound like first time parents. When are you due?"

"Oh…" Emma felt Will tighten his hold as she swallowed. "We're not, we're not expecting."

The woman seemed to realize her faux pas and was quick to recover. "Just preparing, then."

"Yep, you can never be too prepared," Will responded and Emma was grateful. She didn't trust her own voice at the moment.

"Emma Pillsbury?" The nurse called and not a moment too soon. Emma stood with the clipboard as Will gently tugged her down for a kiss.

"I'll be right here when you're done."

She smiled, but she was sure Will could see past the front she was putting up. Her heart thudded in her chest as she made her way to the friendly looking nurse in the bright, colorful scrubs.

"Right this way."

After stepping on a scale, having a blood pressure cuff wrapped like a tourniquet around her arm, and suffering the utter mortification of peeing in a cup, Emma sat on the stiff paper in the exam room, tugging the flimsy gown away from her neck as if it was trying to swallow her whole.

"Hello, Emma, good to see you again," Dr. Robertson said as she strode through the door, Emma's chart in hand. "How are you?"

"Well…" she tugged on the fraying hem, "to be perfectly honest, Dr. Robertson, that will depend on the outcome of today."

The doctor gave her a friendly, understanding pat on the knee and slipped on her stethoscope. "Let's get started then."

Emma closed her eyes and thought of happier times, instead of what was going on down between her legs. They'd draw blood after this, which meant needles and vials of red. She took a deep breath to calm the rapid uptick of her heart rate.

"_Did it ever occur to you that perhaps men don't _want_ to watch people parading about in topcoats and bonnets, swooning over any man who happens to jump in a pond in a white shirt?" _

_Emma gasped. "That's Mr. Darcy you're talking about!" _

"_I don't get what the big deal is. So? He dove in a lake. The shirt isn't even see-through!"_

"_It's Jane Austen. You can't be too scandalous in Jane Austen." _

"_You also can't be too scandalous while _watching_ Jane Austen." He attempted to kiss her neck for the umpteenth time that night, but she shooed him away. _

"_We're getting to the good part."_

"_I thought the white shirt _was_ the good part." _

"_This is the better part," Emma said as she stuffed more popcorn into her mouth, watching Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy share a loving look across the room. _

_Will sighed. "When you asked if I wanted to watch Pride and Prejudice, you should have warned me that it was SIX HOURS LONG!"_

"_Shhhhh!" Emma waved him away and he disappeared into the bedroom, but Emma was far too engrossed in the film to care. _

_It was until she heard a throat clear that she tore her eyes away from the television to see Will standing there in the doorway, a white dress shirt clinging to his skin as the wet material showed off every contour of his body. The steady patter of the drops as they fell from his hem to the carpet was hypnotizing. _

"_Is this what it takes to compete with Mr. Darcy for your attention?" he asked with a wry smile. _

_She was off the couch and hurling herself at him with such force that they landed on the bed, where they stayed for the remainder of the night. _

"All set. Well done," the nurse smiled as she place a label on the final vial of blood. Emma blinked as it registered that it was actually over. Dr. Robertson was checking off a few things on Emma's chart before looking at her over her glasses.

"Once we get the lab results back, we'll call you ASAP."

Emma nodded, but remained silent.

"Hang in there, kiddo." Dr. Robertson patted her knee one more time before exiting.

Emma knew she always liked her.

The waiting room had cleared out a bit, but the pregnant woman who had spoken to them before was at the front desk paying her copay. Emma's eyes found Will in the same chair, but instead of hunched over some beat up magazine, he was playing peekaboo with a toddler sucking on a lollipop.

Emma's heart swelled as she watched Will hide behind his hands before popping back out, much to the delight of the little boy. Emma noticed the blonde hair and brown eyes and put two and two together, coming to the realization that the boy belonged to the pregnant woman.

"Tommy, are you bothering that nice gentleman?" his mother called from the desk.

"No, he's fine," Will replied, his eyes meeting Emma's as he glanced up. "Hey, how did it go?"

"Fine, I guess. We'll see." She cleared her throat, eager to change the topic. "Making new friends?"

Tommy tugged on Will's jeans to get his attention and covered his eyes. "Uh oh, where'd Tommy go?" Will said, without missing a beat. The boy dropped his hands and squealed, not having "peekaboo" in his vocabulary yet.

"Okay, Tommy, say goodbye to the nice man."

The little boy waved a sticky hand in Will's direction and Will waved back. The mother mouthed a "thank you" as she led the boy out of the office.

"Ready to go?"

Emma leaned against Will and closed her eyes. "You have no idea."

The week passed quickly. School was out so their days were spent sharing the newspaper (Sports for him, Arts for her), sipping their morning beverages, and lounging about with an occasional romp in the bedroom. Glee rehearsals were a welcome break in the afternoon as the kids nailed down their performance. They were doing so well, in fact, that sometimes rehearsal consisted of nothing but games like Truth or Dare or Never Have I Ever.

Before Emma knew it, it was the night before they were leaving for Nationals and the apartment was a disaster as she packed their bags. Will paced the living room, phone pressed to his ear, as he answered last minute questions from both the glee kids and parents alike.

…"No, no terminal 3."

... "Yes, you can bring that."

… "No you can absolutely _not_ bring that."

… "The Beacon, 2124 Broadway."

… "Monday. We come back Monday. I think. I hope."

Will collapsed on the couch and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Remind me why I did this again?"

Emma sat next to him and rubbed his neck. "Because you're a good man… or a glutton for punishment, take your pick."

He chuckled and leaned into her embrace as she wrapped her arms around him. "Twelve teenagers on one flight… God help us all."

With that the phone rang again and Will extricated himself from her lap. "That's probably Rachel, wondering which of her lucky headbands she should bring."

"Oh, honey, I packed everything but your suits! I know how you like to pick those!" Emma called after him. He gave her a thumbs up as he disappeared into the bedroom to retrieve the phone.

She moved into the dining room, checking the list she had left on the table of things to do before they left. Only a few things remained before they'd be good to go.

"Em?"

She knew without even looking at him that something was wrong just by the change in his voice. He held the phone out to her, his expression stony.

"It's Dr. Robertson."

Emma wiped her palms on her jeans before reaching a shaky hand out to take it. She couldn't handle Will watching as every word Dr. Robertson said impacted the contours of her face, so she turned and disappeared into the kitchen. She knew Will got the hint when he didn't follow.

The blood roared in her ears as she attempted to listen to what the doctor said. Before she knew it, it was over and the phone lay disconnected in her hand. Her feet carried her back to the dining room, where Will remained rooted to his spot. They stared at each other for a moment, afraid that any sound would shatter the tranquility they had had a moment ago.

"And?" The plethora of emotions molding his face was more than she could bear. Too much hope, too much love, too much fear.

Just too much.

And with that, she collapsed to the floor in tears.


	28. Nationals

_Nationals_

"Mr. Puckerman, please meet your party by Gate 23." The loudspeaker blared throughout the terminal and Will drummed his fingers repeatedly on the desk in front of him.

"I'm going to kill him."

"Honey, killing the children before we even takeoff is probably not the best idea." Emma rubbed her hand up and down Will's back in an attempt to dispel the tension that had settled there.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a mohawked kid bobbing and weaving his way through the crowd.

"Be nice," she muttered in Will's ear as he moved to greet the teen.

"Sorry, Mr. Schue. Puckasaurus had to eat."

Will sighed and gestured harshly for Puck to take a seat. "Don't do that to me again."

"You got it, Mr. Schue," Puck said as he dove into the hero sandwich in his hands.

Will collapsed in a chair and Emma sat a little more gracefully beside him. It had been a very trying 24 hours and she couldn't blame him for being a little on edge. Her reaction the night before hadn't done him any favors and the look of pure desolation on his face was proof enough that he had interpreted her tears of relief as something else altogether.

She was quick to reassure him, offering words like "okay," "fine," and "all clear" as he joined her on the floor and took her in his arms. She wasn't sure how long they had stayed like that, wrapped around one another like ropes as the To Do list lay forgotten on the table. She eventually lost feeling in her legs but as she pulled away to meet Will's eyes, he buried his face in her neck to hide the tears on his cheeks.

"We're okay," she whispered into his hair and he nodded against her collarbone.

Eventually, they picked themselves up off the floor and pushed some food around their plates, feeling that rough combination of celebration and exhaustion, which made any sort of appetite obsolete.

Shy smiles surfaced, followed by quiet laughter and then outright jubilation. Will picked out his suits and Emma crossed the final items off her To Do list, before they crashed into bed, content in the knowledge that their future plans were well within their reach.

"U.S. Airways flight 1184 to New York's John F Kennedy International Airport will begin pre-boarding for preferred passengers."

Will leaned forward and asked the kids to hold up their boarding passes for the twentieth time that morning. Twelve boarding passes appeared and Will slumped back into his chair as Emma squeezed his knee.

"They're all here. No one's lost - "

"Anymore," Will interrupted, casting a side glare at Puck for good measure.

She reached up and placed a kiss on his earlobe and he immediately relaxed against her, waiting a few minutes before he was able to board first with Artie. Emma remained at the gate with the rest of the kids until their zone was called and twelve people holding fourteen garment bags made their way down the jetway to the plane. They were scattered in pairs throughout the cabin and Will tried to make sure that the couples were evenly matched, like placing Puck with Mercedes since she could be counted on to keep him in line.

After making sure Artie was settled, Will made his way back to the front and collapsed into the seat next to Emma.

"At least I don't have to get you drunk this time." He smiled and she laughed.

"True. If either of us needs a drink, I think it's you."

Will chuckled. "If it weren't nine in the morning and if I weren't playing babysitter to twelve teenagers, I would absolutely have a bloody mary."

"Mr. Schue," Rachel said as she stuck her head in between the seats, "studies show that drinking alcohol disrupts your ability to sleep and we need our coach in top shape for Nationals."

Will raised his eyebrows at Emma, who immediately regretted letting Rachel take the seat behind them.

"Thanks, Rach. I'll keep that in mind," Will replied.

"You're very welcome," she responded in a tone that made it clear she truly thought she was doing him a favor.

The rest of the flight was fairly uneventful. Puck hit on the flight attendant, Rachel complained about her lack of a vegan meal, and Finn got locked in the bathroom, but they made it to New York in one piece and all things considered, Will marked that as a success.

The kids had held a bake sale to rent a van to take them from the airport to the hotel and as they waited by baggage claim for their luggage to make an appearance, the kids excitedly babbled about the perfect view of the Manhattan skyline in the distance.

Will stood watching the ramp that spit suitcases down its conveyor belt as Emma walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Well, we made it."

He chuckled and her cheek vibrated against his back. "Indeed we did."

"They seem excited."

Will followed her gaze to where the kids were taking pictures and giggling.

"I just hope they sleep tonight." Will pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned back into Emma's embrace.

"Here come the bags." She pointed to the conveyor belt where a suitcase with a red ribbon glided along. It had been Emma's idea to put a telltale mark on the suitcases so even if its owner wasn't paying attention, someone else would know to grab it. Will reached forward and yanked it from the machine, placing it by his feet as another came around the corner.

Eventually the bags were collected, the kids rounded up, and the rental van acquired. Driving into the city, though, was a whole other matter. Though the car came with a GPS system, navigating the plethora of lanes leading into the Midtown Tunnel while not colliding with the suicidal cab drivers was a feat that required absolute concentration. So much concentration in fact that when the van emerged in the sunlight of Manhattan, the kids erupted in a round of applause.

Emma visibly relaxed when the tunnel was behind them and Will chuckled, taking her hand. He quickly learned, though, that driving one-handed in New York was not possible and he held tight to the wheel until he pulled up in front of the Sheraton. If his grin was any indication, Will was glad to see the van drive off under the capable hands of the valet and he turned without a look back to guide Emma and the kids into the hotel.

The kids were all wide-eyes and slack jaws as they took in the views from the 12th floor. Will and Emma made the rounds to make sure the kids were getting settled in, with Will giving strict instructions that in no way were the mini-bars to be touched.

"I'm talking to you, Puckerman." Will pointed at the teen who held up his hands in mock innocence.

"I didn't do anything!"

"Yet," Will muttered. Emma led him away from the kids, letting them unpack, down the hall to their room. As soon as the door was closed, he collapsed on the bed and toed off his shoes.

"Is it over, yet?"

Emma smiled and snuggled in beside him. "Almost."

They had half an hour before they had to be in the theatre for rehearsal. Each team was allotted an hour to practice and New Directions had been assigned one of the earlier slots.

Emma reached forward and brushed the curls off Will's forehead. "You've gotten so far with them."

"I didn't do anything. That was all them."

"You don't give yourself enough credit. They'd still be a floundering group of five without you." She placed a kiss on his forehead. "Now come on, we have to get going."

The kids were collected and squeezed into three cabs as they made their way up Broadway to the venue. Rachel squealed with every marquee that they passed until finally Quinn cracked and yelled at the brunette to be quiet.

Emma glanced in the backseat to find Quinn rubbing her temples and Emma made a note to ask if the blonde was all right later.

Less than ten minutes later, they piled out of the car and stared up at the Beacon's marquee, announcing the 2011 Glee Club National Championships. Will's cab pulled up a moment later, followed by the one Finn was put in charge of. Will helped Artie with his wheelchair as they filed inside, murmuring in wonderment at the massive house.

"The Tony Awards were in here this year since Radio City is undergoing renovations. Can you even imagine the talent that sat in these seats?" Rachel babbled.

She was generally ignored as Will called their focus and gestured to his watch.

"We only have an hour. Let's not waste any time. Go get used to the stage and then we'll run through the set a few times."

Emma sat in the front row and watched as the kids listened to how their voices bounced off the walls or the noise their footsteps made on the boards. The stage was wooden, much different from their previous venues, and Will was right to have them become familiar with the space since, for them, singing was such an intimate gesture.

Finn sat in the middle of the stage and just took in the scene. Eventually Rachel joined him, followed by Mercedes and Tina and the rest.

"Will," Emma whispered, tapping his leg and gesturing to where the kids sat in a circle.

"What, are you guys having a séance?"

"We're becoming intimate with the space, Mr. Schue," Rachel called.

"Well, I'll leave you to it, then," he chuckled, before sitting the chair next to Emma.

"Nervous?" she asked as she threaded her fingers through his.

"Is it that obvious?" He grinned.

"No, but I think I know you better than anyone else."

"You do." He shrugged. "I don't want the kids to know I'm nervous. They have enough to worry about."

She leaned in and placed a kiss on his cheek. "Your secret's safe with me."

Will smiled at her before clearing his throat and clapping his hands. "All right, guys, let's get to work."

Their hour in the theatre went by in a rush and before Emma knew it, they were taking a leisurely walk down Broadway back to the hotel, which was in walking distance if you had the time and the appropriate shoes.

Emma was in heels but she didn't mind as she took in the grand beauty that was Lincoln Center. After various pleas from the kids, Will relented and allowed them to cross the street to better view the famous fountain.

The kids giggled as water was quite literally rocketed into the air, before crashing down to earth, causing the kids to scream and scatter lest they be hit. Emma smiled from afar, leaning her head on Will's shoulder, just happy to observe. He turned his head and placed a kiss in her hair.

"How are you holding up?"

"Pretty well. The Big, Bad Apple isn't as scary as I thought it was going to be."

"Good."

"Keep an eye Quinn, though," Emma murmured, gesturing to where the teen sat on a bench avoiding the fun. "I'm not sure she's feeling well."

She felt Will nod and glance at his watch, announcing that the kids had ten minutes before they had to meet their parents at the designated restaurant for an early dinner.

The rest of the walk was pleasant as the kids walked through Columbus Circle and down the south side of Central Park. Rachel railed on about the cruelty of horse-drawn carriages but the rest of the kids just seemed content to pet the animals. The site of the Plaza Hotel in the distance caused the kids to stop in the middle of the sidewalk, but Will's gentle reminder that they were on a deadline had them wandering down 7th Avenue towards the hotel once more.

The summer air was nice but the gentle breeze through the Manhattan streets made Emma wish she had brought a cardigan. As if sensing her shiver, Will wrapped an arm around her shoulders and rubbed his hand up and down her arm.

The hotel lobby was bright and the kids scanned the crowd for their parents. Will snorted and tapped Emma's shoulder, drawing her gaze to the hotel bar where the parents seemed to have taken up residence. Emma laughed and pointed the kids in the right direction.

Burt Hummel had a pint of beer in one hand and Mr. and Mr. Berry seemed to have at least one Cosmo under their belts. Carole Hummel was fussing over Finn and Kurt as Will shook hands with Artie's parents.

Once everyone was present and accounted for, the group made their way to the local restaurant Rachel of all people picked out, because as she said, only true performers ate there. Will didn't have the heart to tell her that only true performers ate there in 1952 and that it had since become a tourist trap.

The meal was good and the kitchen was amenable to Emma's request for a dairy free dinner. Will placed his hand on Emma's knee for the entirety of the meal, only removing it when it was needed to steady his knife.

A few toasts were made, as the adults raised their wine and the kids their sodas. The first one by Burt Hummel exclaiming how proud he was of the kids and how thankful he was for Will and Emma. Emma blushed under the happy gazes leveled at her and buried her face in Will's shoulder. Rachel was next toasting to her fellow glee-clubbers on a job well done just getting as far as they had, but Finn took over when she got too emotional to go on.

Finally, Will stood, resting his hand on the back of Emma's neck and raising his glass in the direction of his kids.

"When we won Sectionals last year, I know we all felt like we were on top of the world, but that feeling came crashing down at Regionals and, even though I know you were disappointed, I can't even begin to tell you how proud I was of you. The new year came, we lost a member but gained another," he said, raising his glass to Sam, "and I think this team as only gotten stronger. We conquered Sectionals, then Regionals…" Will lowered his head and Emma knew he was thinking of how exactly that night ended. She placed her hand on the back of his leg and he smiled. "Now were here, in the best city in the world about to go up against the best glee clubs in the country. And I want you to know that, whatever happens tomorrow, I am so proud of you and so unbelievably honored to have been your teacher. So," he cleared his throat, "Congratulations and break a leg!"

Applause erupted causing curious glances from other patrons to be cast in their direction. Will sat back down and Emma leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"And I'm so proud of _you._"

He smiled and placed a gentle kiss on her lips, causing Puck to whistle in their direction.

"Noah."

"Sorry, Mom."

Will chuckled at the chastened teen. The parents split the bill at their insistence, not letting Will and Emma pitch in at all. Will argued but didn't get anywhere.

Emma glanced over at Quinn as she pushed her food around her plate, her skin slightly pale. Emma nudged Will in the ribs and nodded in Quinn's direction. Will nodded and approached her as everyone stood to go back to their respective hotels.

"Hey, Quinn, you all right?"

The teen looked a bit startled, but nodded. "Oh sure. Just fine, Mr. Schue."

Will nodded, but didn't look thoroughly convinced. He looked at Emma and shrugged, before helping her into her cardigan.

Curfew was early that night, but Will still had to kick Puck out from under Santana's bed, which made Will tell Brittany a harmless white lie that if boys were found in their room after curfew, Santa would know and bring her coal at Christmas. He felt bad at the time, but when he heard Brittany telling Puck to go back to bed, his guilt was lessened.

"Goodnight, ladies," he said, closing the door on Rachel and Tina, before doing the same to Sam and Mike. Emma made sure Quinn and Mercedes were all settled but the blonde was asleep before Emma could even offer a "goodnight."

She made her way back to their hotel room and got in her pajamas, a pair of Will's boxers and an old t-shirt. Will entered their hotel room a moment later and leaned against the door.

"I'm never having a daughter."

Emma raised her eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"I don't want to have to worry about boys hiding under her bed for the whole of her teen years." He rubbed his hand over his face and sighed.

Emma laughed and stood on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his chin. "Unfortunately, honey, that's not something we can control."

Will closed his eyes, resigned to his fate, before stripping off his shirt and getting ready for bed. As Emma brushed her teeth, she wandered over to the window and took in the cityscape. It really was beautiful: the bright lights of the skyscrapers bouncing off he distant water of the Hudson River. She felt Will's arms wrap around her from behind and she leaned back into his chest.

"Still nervous?" she asked, her question muffled by the toothpaste in her mouth.

"Stomach's doing flip flops." He grinned and rested his chin on her shoulder. "But I can't control what happens. It's all in their hands now. Which I think makes me even more nervous than when I was performing."

Emma spun in his arms and held up her finger and went running into the bathroom.

"Where are you going?" Will's face was all confusion, but Emma quickly spit out her toothpaste and rinsed out her mouth, before running back and launching herself into his arms.

"Well I couldn't exactly kiss you with a mouth full of Colgate, now could I?" She wrapped her arms and legs around him before drawing his lips to hers.

Just as Will began to deepen the kiss, Emma pulled away and untangled herself from his arms.

"You, sir, have a curfew."

Will pouted and reached for her again. "But… that was for the kids."

She swatted his hand away. "And for their coach. You _all _have a very big day tomorrow."

"But…" he pouted some more and she giggled.

"No."

"Fine." He trudged into the bathroom to brush his teeth as Emma climbed under the covers. She closed her eyes, content in knowing that their dedication, passion, and determination would pay off. It had to. Will and the kids had worked too hard and wanted it too badly to not do well.

She felt the bed dip and soon Will's arms were wrapped around her, pulling her to him.

"I promise I'll behave," he whispered in her ear. She laughed and snuggled up against his chest, before letting herself drift off.

Her sleep was deep and dream-filled, though interrupted seven hours too early.

A persistent noise was echoing around in her head and she burrowed deeper into the pillow in an effort to drown it out. She felt Will stir next to her and the knowledge that he could hear it too meant that it wasn't a part of her dream. She opened her eyes as the room came into focus and the noise came again, followed by a hesitant, "Mr. Schue?"

Will was out of bed in a flash, throwing a hotel robe over his boxers and padding over to the door. Emma squinted in the light from the hallway as Mercedes' concerned face came into view.

"I'm really sorry to wake you, Mr. Schue, but it's Quinn. I think she's really sick."

Will glanced back to Emma to make sure she heard and Emma gave him a nod in reply.

"I'll be there in a second."

Will disappeared as Emma threw a robe on over her pajamas and padded down the hallway to Quinn and Mercedes' room. The door was ajar and she gently pushed it open to find Will sitting on the edge of Quinn's bed, his palm on her forehead.

The girl was even paler that she had been earlier that night and a sheen of perspiration marred her skin.

"She has a fever," Will responded to Emma's inquiring look.

"How's your stomach?"

"Fine. It's just my head," Quinn croaked.

Will nodded and stood, whispering in Emma's ear. "We have a pullout couch in our room. I say she stays there so Mercedes can sleep. I'll run out and get her some medicine; there's a pharmacy down the street and then I'll sleep on the floor of Finn and Puck's room."

"Are you sure?"

"It doesn't matter if I'm sleepy tomorrow." Will turned back to Quinn. "You're going to come sleep in our room. I'll sleep in Finn and Puck's room."

"What if she can't perform?" Mercedes asked.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." Will gave Mercedes a comforting smile as a determined look crossed Quinn's face.

"I'm performing tomorrow."

Will smiled as he helped her into a sitting position. "We'll see."

She stood on wobbly legs and Will put her arm around his shoulders before wrapping an arm around her torso.

"Anything you need in here before tomorrow morning?"

Quinn shook her head and Will started towards the door. "Goodnight, Mercedes. Thanks for getting us. Try and get some sleep."

Mercedes nodded and Emma placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "She'll be fine. We'll take care of her."

Mercedes smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes, as she climbed back into bed. Making sure she was settled, Emma turned off the lights and shut the door.

Upon finding the hallway empty, Emma was confused as to how Will and Quinn made it to their room so quickly, but when she entered and saw Will lowering Quinn from his arms to the bed, she understood.

Will stood and shrugged. "It was easier that way." He grabbed his discarded jeans and a t-shirt and disappeared into the bathroom as Emma began to ready the pullout couch. Will emerged dressed a moment later and helped Emma turn down the bed.

"I'm really sorry," Quinn started.

"Don't even think it." Emma responded.

"I'm gonna run to the pharmacy down the street. Don't fall asleep til I get back."

Quinn smiled and opened her eyes again. "I'll try."

Will grabbed the room key and placed a kiss on Emma's cheek before disappearing. Emma hung up the robe, assuming Quinn wouldn't care if she walked around in boxers and a t-shirt, seeing as they were about to share a room together. Quinn climbed into the makeshift bed and settled the blankets around her.

Emma sat on the edge of the bed with a wet washcloth in hand and gently brushed the girl's matted hair from her face.

"Why didn't you tell us you weren't feeling well?"

"I didn't want to worry Mr. Schue. He has so much other stuff on his mind."

"Your health will always be one of his top concerns. Is your mom here? I didn't see her at dinner."

"No, she couldn't… well… she was busy."

Emma's heart ached for the girl and she patted her leg in what she hoped was a comforting manner.

"But how are you?" Quinn asked.

"How am I?"

"If Mr. Schue expects me to stay awake until he gets back, I need an interesting topic of discussion."

Emma chuckled and shrugged. "I'm fine. Nervous for you guys, but other than that, pretty good."

Quinn gazed her at her in a way that made Emma feel like she was completely transparent. When Quinn asked, "How are you?" she didn't mean the way it was used in everyday, polite conversation. She meant, "How are you after you had a miscarriage and then bolted the night of Regionals only to come back and propose to Mr. Schuester?"

But Emma had to remind herself that this was a girl that was wise beyond her years, forced into adulthood by a decision that changed her life forever.

"I'm okay," Emma conceded. "It was a rough few weeks, but I'm good. Mr. Schue and I are good."

Quinn smiled. "I'm glad to hear it. I'd be heartbroken if you weren't. You're too perfect for each other."

Emma chuckled and thought it only fair to return the favor. "And how are you and Sam?"

"Going through a bit of a rough patch, but nothing we can't handle."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Quinn shrugged. "It happens."

Five minutes later, the sound of a card in the door signaled Will's arrival and he appeared with a full bag from Duane Reade.

"It's just a fever, Mr. Schue. I think you went a little overboard," Quinn said as she adjusted herself against the pillows.

Will shrugged sheepishly as he emptied the contents of the bag onto the bed. He opened a thermometer and told her to stick it in her mouth, which she did as he popped open a bottle of ibuprofen and pounded a cold pack.

It beeped a minute later and pulled it out and looked at it. "101.4."

Will sighed and handed her three ibuprofen and a bottle of water. "Drink it down and get some sleep.

"I'm sorry to kick you out of bed, Mr. Schue."

"Don't worry about it, Quinn." He handed her the ice pack and smiled, before placing a kiss on Emma's cheek and heading for the door.

"Just a word of caution, Mr. Schue. Puck's really cranky when he wakes up."

Will rolled his eyes. "Oh I have no doubt." With that, he was gone.

Quinn pressed the ice pack to her head as Emma settled back into bed. "All set?"

"All set. Thanks, Miss P."

"Anytime, Quinn."

She shut the light off and brought Will's pillow to her face, inhaling his scent before it completely disappeared.

Before Emma knew it, sunlight was streaming through the crack in the drapes and Will was pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Morning, Sunshine."

"Is it time to get up?"

Will nodded. "The kids are already awake, though I'm going to do another round in about five minutes to be sure. How's the patient?" Will nodded to where Quinn slumbered and Emma scooted further up against the pillows.

"I think she slept through the night, but we'll have to take her temperature again to see if the meds worked."

Will made his way over to Quinn and gently shook her shoulder.

"Quinn?"

"Hmm?" She blinked her eyes open and sat up abruptly. "It's Nationals."

Will chuckled and placed a calming hand on her shoulder. "Yes it is, but you're not going anywhere until we take your temperature."

She reached out and popped the thermometer in her mouth before Will had practically finished his sentence.

"How are you feeling?" Emma asked and Quinn gave her a thumbs up. The thermometer beeped and the teen pulled it out.

"99.2." Quinn looked up at Will determinedly. "I can do 99.2."

Will closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Quinn, if anything happens to you, if you fall or pass out onstage, I will never forgive myself."

She grabbed his arm and tugged him down to eye-level with her. "Please, Mr. Schue. I'm fine." Her eyes watered but she blinked her tears away. "I've worked so hard for this."

Without even looking at him, Emma knew immediately that that was Will's undoing. His shoulders slumped and he exhaled the breath he had been holding.

"Okay. Fine."

"Really?" Color flushed Quinn's face and she looked healthier than she had in days. "You mean it?"

Will stood and gestured towards the door. "Go get dressed before I change my mind."

In her exuberance, she jumped up and placed a kiss on his cheek, before bolting out the door.

"Thanks, Mr. Schue," she tossed over her shoulder.

"But I'm taking your temperature at intermission!" he yelled before the door slammed shut, cutting him off.

"Softie," Emma muttered from her place on the bed.

"Yeah, yeah." He crawled up next to her and placed a kiss on her lips. "I missed you."

"I missed you too." She allowed him to press her back against the pillows as he deepened the kiss but, with great resolve, she placed her hands on his chest and pushed him away. "No, no, no. You're getting sidetracked, Mr. Schuester. Go shower."

"I say we save time and water and shower together."

Emma rolled her eyes as he stripped off his shirt. "Valiant though your intentions may be, we never ever save time _or_ water when we shower together."

"I'll behave this time."

Emma snorted in disbelief.

"I swear!" He pouted and Emma relented, stripping off her t-shirt and joining him in the bathroom.

Though Will behaved, Emma didn't, and she took great pleasure in "relieving" him of his tension. He stumbled from the bathroom ten minutes later, his legs a little wobbly from her ministrations as he attempted to dress himself. Emma watched with great amusement as she leaned up against the doorjamb and dried her hair.

Emma dressed in yellow, so the kids could spot her in the crowd, and helped Will tied his tie as the nerves finally made their way to his fingers.

The ride to the theatre seemed quicker than the day before, probably due to the high stress levels that were practically palpable in the small cab. Will led the way inside and got them all checked in and seated.

A familiar face caught Emma's gaze and she let go of Will's hand to fling herself into Jack's arms. "Jack!"

"Dad!" Will's arms wrapped around his father as soon as Emma let go. "Oh my God, what are you doing here?"

"Do you think I'd miss this? Not on your life." He pulled away and cupped his son's face in his hands.

"When did you get here?"

"I took the red-eye this morning."

"Dad…" Will's voice wavered as he crushed him in another hug. "Where are you sitting?"

"Down there." Jack pointed toward center orchestra.

"But you'll come keep me company when Will goes backstage, right?"

"Of course I will."

"We're going sixth, so come on back when the fourth team is finished." Will instructed before remembering the host of teens sitting curiously behind him. "Oh how rude," Will turned and gestured to the kids, "Guys, this is my Dad. Dad? These are my kids."

The majority of the students flushed when being referred to as Will's, but all waved and offered a "Hey, Mr. Schue" or "Hi, Papa Schue" for Jack.

"Break a leg!" Jack said, before hugging Will once more and heading back to his seat.

The first four teams went by in a blur of fluorescent lights and brightly colored tulle. Will's fingers dug further into the armrest with every act that passed and Emma placed a hand on his knee to stop his perpetual bouncing.

As applause rang out for the fourth team from Wilmington, Delaware, Will stood and adjusted his tie as he gestured for the kids to follow him out. Emma gave them all a hug as they passed, and she grabbed Quinn to ask how she was feeling.

"Never better, Miss P," the blonde replied.

Emma saw Jack making his way up the aisle and, after all the students had filed out, she grabbed hold of Will's lapels and placed a hard kiss to his lips. When he pulled away, he looked a bit dazed.

"Go get 'em, Tiger," she whispered.

A smile exploded across his face. "Yes, ma'am."

Jack gave Will a hug before he jogged to catch up with the kids, and only after he disappeared did the butterflies in Emma's stomach run amuck. She took her place next to Jack and inhaled deeply.

"Oh gosh, I'm nervous," she whispered, grateful to have someone to actually confess that to.

"You and me both," he replied.

The fifth act was good, but she had seen better earlier in the day. And as the lights went down on the sixth, Emma held her breath and grasped Jack's hand.

They started out with a love song medley, with Rachel and Finn singing the first part, Mercedes and Puck singing the second, and Santana and Sam singing the third. Then things got raucous. As the beat picked up, Emma found herself standing along with the rest of the audience as Artie and Tina sang while Mike and Brittany ran through the best choreography the competition had seen that day. Emma's throat closed up as their voices soared, allowing Quinn and Kurt to showcase their talent while Rachel and Finn backed them up. Will had truly shone a spotlight on everyone and Emma was beyond proud of the work they had done.

As the final number came to a rousing end, those that weren't already standing did and the emcee had to intervene just to keep the show on schedule.

After the 7th act, Will and the kids returned and Emma ran out of adjectives to describe how amazing she thought the performance was.

As the final club took their bows, the audience meandered in the lobby while the judges rendered their decision. She was by no means an expert, but if audience reaction was anything to go by, she had to assume that McKinley was in the running along with the second act, a school from Connecticut, and the 8th act, a school from Arizona.

Thirty minutes later, Will and the kids were called back onstage for the announcement and Will took Emma's hands in his and just stared at her. No words were needed. Emma wasn't sure Will would be able to get them out anyway. But with a quick kiss to her lips, he disappeared into the crowd.

Emma held tight to Jack's hand again as the clubs were assembled onstage. The lead judge came out with three envelopes in hand and Emma could see Will bouncing on the balls of his feet. She couldn't help but smile. His anxiety was always endearing, but in that moment, all she wanted to do was wrap her arms around him and tell it would all be over soon.

The first envelope was ripped open and a school from Oregon was read out. Screams were heard and tears were cried but Emma's focus remained solely on the team politely clapping from stage left.

The second envelope was opened and Emma's breath was held hostage in her chest.

"Desert Mountain High School from Scottsdale, Arizona."

The air wooshed out of Emma's lungs and she saw the look of panic briefly cross Will's face. They were only reading out third, second, and first place. If McKinley hadn't been announced yet, it meant they probably got fourth or below.

Will smiled reassuringly at the kids as they all shared concerned looks. The final envelope was ripped open and the mic was raised to the judge's mouth.

"And your 2011 National Champions are… McKinley High's New Directions!"

The noise that erupted drowned out the expletive that left Puck's mouth. Will's jaw dropped and even Rachel was rendered speechless. It was as if everyone onstage had frozen: Kurt's face seemed locked in a state of perpetual shock, Finn looked like a deer caught in headlights, Mercedes seemed dumbstruck and Quinn grabbed onto Sam as her faintness finally seemed to catch up with her. They were aiming for maybe third. First was nowhere on their radar.

Through the chaos, Will's eyes managed to find her and she thanked whatever fashion gods there were for helping her choose yellow that day. His look of disbelief melted away to pride and then pure joy and Emma couldn't help the tears that poured down her cheeks.

The trophy was handed over to Will and he immediately passed it around to the kids. The teams were soon ushered offstage and, with a final glance at her, Will bounded offstage as Emma ran up the aisle and through the lobby, knowing he was on his way towards her.

"Emma!"

She scanned the crowd and followed his voice, jogging in heels through the throngs of people. When they finally made eye contact, she ran that much faster until she launched herself into his arms, sending him stumbling backwards a few feet.

"I love you," he whispered over and over again.

"I'm so proud of you," she responded. She didn't care that there were hundreds of witnesses as she brought her lips to his repeatedly. Only when they heard a throat clear behind them, did Will release her and turn to find the joyous and slightly smug faces of the glee kids.

"I'm so proud of you!" Emma exclaimed, gathering them all into a group hug, which for Emma, was a very big deal.

"Will!"

Will extricated himself and made his way over to his father as the parents of the various kids made their way through the crowd. Emma was elated, more so than for any award she won in her life or goal she had achieved. To see someone she loved succeed was better than any trophy.

"Party at the hotel!" Puck called as he led the way from the lobby of the theatre to the street.

"Let's walk! We'll be like a parade!" Rachel jumped up and down and the parents seemed to silently agree that allowing them to walk off their excitement was way better than attempting to shove them all into a cab.

Will's arm snaked around Emma's waist and she could see his glossy eyes as he pressed a kiss to her head. "This feels way better than 1993."

Emma grinned and held him tighter as they made their way down Broadway. One of Rachel's fathers hung up his cellphone and made an announcement.

"There will be a slight detour on the way back to the hotel," he called as he led them, not down 7th Avenue, but straight down Central Park South where they came to a stop outside the Plaza.

"You've _got_ to be joking," Finn said as he stared up at the gilded doors.

"Daddy!" Rachel squealed as she launched herself at her father.

"Only the best for the best. Come on, it's on us. We have to have a toast," Rachel's father persuaded as he opened the door and let the kids file in.

Emma's eyes widened at the pictures of the Beatles and Marilyn Monroe on the wall and the marble floor that led the way into the Oak Room.

The hostess smiled as they all piled in. "You must be the glee club national champions."

"We sure are!" Artie responded.

"If the trophy was any indication," Will muttered in Emma's ear and she laughed.

They were taken to a table in the back as the boys unconsciously adjusted their ties and the girls smoothed down their hair amidst their intimidating surroundings.

The waitress came around and one of Rachel's fathers glanced at Will. "Are we off school time?"

He nodded. "We're off school time."

"Good," he said, glancing at the waitress. "Three bottles of champagne please. Can the kids have a sip?"

"If you pour it."

"Then we shall pour away," he winked conspiratorially with the waitress as she left to bring back glasses.

"We get to drink? Sweet!"

"Puckerman. A sip." Will's eyes narrowed and Puck sunk back into his seat. The rest of the parents gave their consent and soon, more than twenty glasses were raised in celebration for the trophy sitting in the middle of the table.

Cries of "Speech! Speech!" echoed out and Finn was the first to stand and raise his glass. "We knew that whatever place we came in, speeches would be made and I was elected to speak." Rachel seemed to bristle at this, but Finn plowed on. "We'd like to propose a toast to our parents, who have always been supportive of the glee club, but especially to Mr. Schue and Miss Pillsbury who have been like the surrogate parents of this group. Mr. Schue, you've put your heart and soul into us and we know without a doubt we wouldn't be here without you. We can't thank you enough for all you've done, but we can give this trophy to you, which is perhaps more yours than ours anyway. So thank you, Mr. Schue."

Will's grip on Emma's hand had gotten tighter and tighter the more Finn spoke. It might not have been the most eloquent speech, but it was certainly heartfelt and Will stood to give the teen a hug before "speech, speech!" was chanted again.

Will sighed and glanced at the faces around the table. "I would have been happy with fifth, but I have to say, first does feel pretty nice. I'm so proud of you guys." He cleared his throat and Emma could tell he was trying hard not to get emotional. "You've worked so hard in the face of so much," his gaze lingered on Kurt, who still bore bruises even though school had been in recess for weeks. "We started out as five, but we eventually grew, and people who never might have spoken before have become best friends. Some even more than that." He smiled at Finn and Rachel. "What I'm trying to say is, you guys have saved me from myself more times than I can count. You've been there for my best and my worst, and though you say you wouldn't be here without me, I know for a fact I wouldn't be where I am, in life in general, without you either. So I thank you. And I'm so, so proud of you."

Glasses were raised and hands were clapped. Emma could barely smile without the threat of tears because she knew that Will truly had been through his best and worst with these kids.

Will sat back down and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, humming gently into her ear, "God only knows what I'd be without you."

Her face flushed and she placed a kiss on his cheek. Stories were told and, though Will was laughing so hard he was crying, he realized that he and Emma had reservations to keep since the kids were technically on their "free time."

The parents insisted on buying them a bottle of wine at whatever restaurant they went to, so four hours and God knows how many glasses later, Will and Emma stumbled into their hotel room, alternating between giggling and telling the other one to be quiet.

Will shrugged out of his blazer and hung it on the hook on the back of the door, where it promptly fell to the ground. He laughed and attempted to hang it back up, but it fell again.

"I give up." He stumbled over to the bed where Emma landed after attempting to remove her Mary Janes and failing.

"I thought they only bought us one bottle." Emma rolled over and held her spinning head.

"Two. Or maybe three." Will shrugged. "I can't remember."

Emma stood and pulled up her hair, silently asking for Will to unzip her. He did so gladly and reverently pushed the straps of her dress off her shoulders, letting it pool at her feet. She unhooked her bra and grabbed a robe, before grabbing a glass of water and quickly gulping it down.

"Hey, come back," Will gently called.

She sat on the edge of the bed and handed him the glass of water as she gently unbuttoned his oxford shirt. He disrobed down to his boxers, also grabbing the robe and wrapping the terrycloth snugly around his body. They each finished off glasses of water until the fuzziness dissipated and Emma opened the sliding door to the balcony, pushing Will into the chair and sitting down on his lap.

Their breathing fell in sync as his chest rose in tandem with hers. She leaned her head back against his shoulder and closed her eyes, utterly content.

"Who has the trophy?"

"Don't know."

"How are we going to get it on the plane?"

"Don't care."

She chuckled and traced his jaw with her finger.

"What now?" she asked as they stared out over the city. "No set lists to create, no rehearsals to attend. Whatever shall we do?"

"There's always that wedding to plan."

"Oh right," she giggled. "That does require some planning, doesn't it."

"Just a bit." Will nuzzled her neck and she sighed contentedly. "It'll be here before you know it."

She couldn't help the grin that blossomed on her face. "Can't wait."

Will was right. Before Emma knew it, invitations had gone out, the school year had started up again, the kids were bouncing up and down about starting senior year, and October had made its grand entrance in a flurry of red leaves and cool breezes.

There were many things in life Emma had failed: being a dairy farmer, accounting class, first dates, standing up to Sue.

But as Emma stood in their bedroom staring at the garment bag hanging on the back of the door, she knew that marrying Will would be the one thing in her life she had actually gotten right.


	29. Preparations

**It's another long one… oops.**

_Preparations_

Emma gave the dining room table a final once-over as a knock sounded on the door.

"Coming!"

The ribbons, vases, cards, and pictures were lined in an orderly fashion awaiting the crafty hands that would mold them into beautiful centerpieces. All that would be left to do then would be to stick the roses in and onto the tables they'd go.

Emma swung the door open to reveal a beaming Rachel who excitedly held up a toolkit as she made her way into the apartment.

"It has scissors and glue sticks and construction paper and sequins - "

"Uh." Emma held up her hand at the mention of sequins.

"Oh don't worry, Miss Pillsbury. The colors I have don't go with your palate."

It was only then that Emma realized two others stood behind Rachel, but Quinn and Mercedes seemed to be loitering in the doorway until her tirade on the merits of sequins was over.

The girls had agreed, rather enthusiastically, to help Emma put together the centerpieces for the wedding. Whatever she could do on her own, she was going to attempt in order to save some money. Her parents had insisted on paying for the wedding, but Will haggled them down to half.

"Well, take a seat. I think the goal is for it to look like this:" Emma held up a completed centerpiece that consisted of a vase, tied with various navy blue ribbons, a card indicating which table it was, and a picture of her and Will. "Orange roses will then be put in by the florist on the morning of."

"It's beautiful, Miss P," Mercedes commented.

"You think?" Emma admired her handiwork. "I'm not very good with stuff like this."

"I love it. It's perfect." Quinn smiled. "Simple yet elegant."

Rachel had suddenly become quiet and Emma grew concerned. "Do you not like it, Rachel?"

Rachel was holding a picture in her hand, examining it closely. "When was this taken?"

Emma glanced over her shoulder and chuckled. "My second week at McKinley, actually."

Rachel looked up wide-eyed. "Are you serious?"

Mercedes and Quinn peered over as Emma remembered gray skies and granite clouds, warm arms and a gentle smile.

"There had been an uncommon amount of rain, therefore a lot of mud and a good deal of flooding. I didn't own a pair of boots and even if I had, I probably wouldn't have walked in that anyway."

"I remember this," Quinn said. "It was our freshman year. Mud fights broke out everywhere."

Emma shuddered at the memory. "I arrived at school completely unprepared. Mr. Schue saw me sitting in my car and rescued me."

The girls melted into various stages of swooning as Will's voice echoed in Emma's ear.

"_Do you need some help?" _

"_No, no. I'm okay." Her voice sounded higher than she would have liked as the curly-haired Spanish teacher stuck his head in through her car window. _

"_You sure?" He glanced behind him. "Because there's a rather large lake between you and the school. One that I'm not entirely sure you're equipped to cross." His eyes flicked ever so briefly down to her heeled feet before meeting her gaze again. "Unless you've got a blowup boat in there that I'm not aware of." _

_She smiled and scrunched her nose as she viewed the rather muddy terrain. While she had chosen her blue Mary Janes, his green Wellington boots came up to his knees. _

"_Okay." _

"_Okay." His grin was infectious as he opened the door. "Put your arm around my neck. Yeah, like that and grab your bag." _

_She held tight to both him and the bag as he lifted her effortlessly from the car, laughing lightly as they trudged their way to the school. _

"_Emma, right?" _

"_Right. And you're Will." How could she forget.  
_

"_That I am. Nice to meet you again." _

_"Likewise."_

She vaguely remembered someone snapping photographs that day, but she didn't realize they had captured a candid of them until it appeared in the Thunderclap that year.

Tina, Santana, and Brittany arrived shortly thereafter and the rest of the afternoon was spent tying, gluing and reminiscing as the girls demanded to know the backstory to every photo that they picked up.

"What about this one?" Tina held it up and Emma laughed.

"That was actually this past July 4th. We went to Virginia to visit my family and my nephew got a little enthusiastic about the cake."

The picture showed Will holding Ben, both of their faces smeared with chocolate icing, as Emma attempted to duck from Ben's sticky fingers.

The front door opened and Will called out a greeting before appearing in the dining room a moment later.

"Whoa." He pulled up short in the doorway and glanced around at the chaos. "Making progress?"

Emma gestured to the line of finished vases. "Indeed we are."

"Hey, Mr. Schue," Mercedes called out.

"Ladies," he greeted, before walking around and placing a kiss on Emma's head. "Beautiful work. Need help?"

Emma shook her head. "We're fine."

"But you can tell us, Mr. Schue, where this came from." Quinn held up a photo and Will's ears turned pink.

"I was eight. And I wanted to be cowboy."

"That may be the most adorable thing I've ever heard," Santana said as she tied another ribbon around the vase, glancing at the too-big-ten-gallon hat that fell over 8-year-old Will's eyes.

The photo was one of Emma's favorites and, though Will didn't want any baby pictures, she made sure to sneak a few of him in, including one of him wearing a Darth Vader mask and not much else. Rachel screamed when she found the picture of her teacher's toddler tush.

Will made his escape after offering to order pizza for everyone and Emma watched him sink to the couch with a pad of paper in hand and attempt to write his vows. He had spent practically every free moment of the past two weeks pacing the living room, muttering to himself, and gnawing on the end of a pen. She didn't want him to stress over it, but she could tell he was by the way the crumpled balls of paper seemed to multiply around him.

Two hours later, the girls brought the empty pizza boxes into the kitchen and said goodbye to their teachers. Emma thanked them profusely before shutting the door and making her way over to Will.

"You know, we don't have to this," she said, as she sat on the coffee table in front of him.

"Yes we do."

"No, actually we don't."

"But you want to." He let the pad of paper drop to the cushion next to him as the tiniest pout graced his features.

"Since when is this wedding about everything that _I _want? I thought marriages were based on compromise. If it's stressing you out, we don't have to do it." She brushed the hair back off his forehead.

"But it shouldn't be…" he sighed and rubbed his hand down his face. "It shouldn't be this hard."

His attention was drawn over her shoulder and her eyes followed his to the garment bag hanging on the door.

"Don't even think about it," she warned. "I will hide it from you if I have to."

"I'm not going to peek. I promise." A grin passed over his face and Emma exhaled.

They were so close, but she had this nagging fear that things were too perfect; that the floor was going to drop out from beneath them. They had been through so much and she felt like she was just waiting for the other shoe to fall. She stood from her perch on the coffee table and climbed into his lap.

"Just because you can't put it into words doesn't mean I don't know how much you love me."

His lips formed a smile against her cheek.

"So a simple 'I do' will suffice?"

"A simple 'I do' will suffice."

She secretly felt relieved. Though she had many drafts and backup drafts, writing her vows was causing her more stress than she'd care to admit. Declaring her feelings in front of hundreds of people was never one of her strong suits.

"Come on." He patted her on the leg. "Let's see what baby pictures you plundered from my father."

Fourteen days. That's all that remained between making Will Schuester and Emma Pillsbury, Will and Emma Schuester. Emma's stomach flipped every time she thought of her new name. The dress was picked out, the flowers were arranged, the dairy free cake was ordered and the wedding license obtained.

School was going by in a blur. All of McKinley seemed to know that the hot but meek guidance counselor and the Teacher of the Year three times running were getting married in two weeks time. The kids alternated between giving high fives to Will and jealous glares to Emma. She had assumed that the crushes on the Spanish teacher would have dissipated over the years due to his marriage to Terri but apparently the fact that Will was going off the market for the second time in their high school careers was more than the female population could bear.

Will had been all but kicked out of glee rehearsals since the kids were preparing something for the reception. He would come wandering into her office at 3pm and sit across from her desk watching her do paperwork until he was given permission to enter his own choir room.

Will thought it was ridiculous. Emma thought it was adorable.

Before she knew it, another week had passed, the caterer had been given the final confirmation and her parents were landing at the Dayton Airport in an hour's time. Will had gone to pick them up as Emma ran around vacuuming, scrubbing, and dusting. It was the first time her parents had visited since she moved to Ohio and the desire to impress was surpassing her natural need to be organized.

Her parents would be swinging by to see the apartment, before they'd all be going over to Jack's where her parents would stay until the wedding. Jack had the extra room and, after joining Will and Emma in Virginia for the Fourth of July, Nathan Pillsbury and Jack Schuester had taken to each other like co-conspirators planning a bank robbery. They were always getting into trouble.

Emma rolled her eyes, but couldn't help laughing every time the men were put in a room together. She had to admit, seeing her parents get along with Will's father made her heart swell.

Three hours later, the front door swung open and a "Baby girl!" echoed throughout the apartment. Emma emerged from the bedroom, having shoved some final stray items under the bed and wrapped her arms around her mother.

"Hi, Mama." She released her mother and reached for her father as he placed a kiss on her head.

"Ladybug." Her father squeezed her before holding her at arm's length and performing his usual inspection. "Are you sleeping enough?"

"Yes, Daddy, but thank you for informing me I have dark circles under my eyes."

Adeline swatted her husband. "Nathan, leave her alone. She's planning a wedding."

Will closed the door behind them and shrugged. "Well this is it. Home."

Nathan and Adeline looked around as Emma gave them a short tour.

"It's beautiful, Ladybug. Just beautiful."

Emma shot Will a small smile and his shoulders seem to relax. She knew he was worried about what her parents would think about their apartment. Was it big enough? Did Will provide enough? Though Emma was perfectly content, she knew Will wanted to impress.

With the grand tour under their belts, all four piled into the car and made their way over to Jack's where the men immediately opened a bottle of wine and lit up a cigar, despite Emma's stern warning to her father.

"Daddy, what did the doctor say?"

"I'm fine, Ladybug. I went to see him last week."

She felt Will's arms wrap around her waist and she leaned back into his embrace, accepting the proffered glass of wine from his hand.

"His only daughter's getting married. Let the man have a cigar," Will whispered in her ear.

"Don't go taking his side."

"I'm not. My reasoning is purely selfish. The happier he is, the less likely he'll be to kill me in my sleep."

Emma chuckled and watched the ribbons of smoke rise into the air, swirling against the orange and red sunset. She retreated to the kitchen, leaving Will to make nice with her father, and sat with her mother at the dining room table.

"So?" Adeline took a sip of wine. "Are things coming together?"

Emma nodded. "They are. Surprisingly. I expected to have at least two nervous breakdowns behind me before we hit the one week mark."

"I suspect your future husband has something to do with that." Adeline gave her a sly smile and Emma blushed.

"He's a lot of help," she murmured into her glass.

"Emma, may I borrow you for a moment?"

Emma glanced up to see Jack standing in the doorway.

"Of course."

Jack led the way out of the kitchen and she threw a glance over her shoulder, locking eyes with Will who merely shrugged in response. Emma frowned as she followed Jack upstairs, her confusion growing by the minute. Was she about to get a lecture? A request to not break Will's heart? No doubt her father had already threatened Will with bodily harm should he cause her any kind of pain, but Jack didn't seem like the threatening type. He also knew that Emma would rather die than hurt his son.

"I know the old adage goes, 'Something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue," he began. "I know you already have something old," he said as he lifted her left hand and gazed at her engagement ring. "And your mother informs me you already have something blue."

She blushed knowing full well that her 'something blue' was a navy garter that his son was going to take great delight in removing from her thigh.

"I have a feeling you're about to get something new," he winked, "which just leaves us with 'something borrowed."

The pieces began to fit together as she glanced around the master bedroom. Pictures dotted the nightstand of Jack and Will's mother, Molly, their smiling faces leaving no doubt that theirs was a happy marriage.

Jack had turned away to rummage in a drawer and, when he faced her again, a small velvet box was resting reverently in his hand.

"These are for you. They belonged to Will's mother."

Emma gasped as she opened the box to find two pearl drop earrings nestled in white satin. "Oh, Jack…" she trailed off, not trusting her voice to continue without breaking.

"I say 'borrowed,' but they're yours. For superstition's sake, though, we'll go with 'borrowed' for now," he chuckled.

She looked at him with glassy eyes and threw her arms around his neck. "They're beautiful." She placed a kiss on his cheek and pulled away. "I'd be honored to wear them."

After taking a minute to compose herself, Emma descended the stairs, Jack following close behind, the velvet box cocooned tightly in her palm. Will waited for her at the bottom, throwing a curious glance to his father as he passed and patted his son on the shoulder.

"What was all that about?"

"Something borrowed."

"What?"

Emma held out the box and Will gingerly opened it. "Something borrowed. They should look familiar to you."

Will was silent but he offered a small nod as he stared at the earrings. He cleared his throat and hastily wiped the back of his hand across his face.

"You'll look beautiful in them."

"You okay?" She threaded her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

He nodded, but refused to meet her gaze. "It sneaks up on you. Just when you think you're fine, that you can handle a wedding without your mom, the feeling just… levels you."

She descended one more step until she was nose to nose with him and brushed her lips across his eyes, kissing away the tears that threatened to fall. Will had put up a strong front but Emma felt the harsh pangs of guilt for not asking more often how he was coping.

But just as quickly as his pain came, he schooled a smile on his face and threaded his fingers through hers. "We should head back soon."

They said a quick goodbye to Jack and her parents, promising to come back the next day for dinner. The house would soon be filled with Will's Aunt Joanie and Uncle Rob, followed soon by his cousin John, wife Anna and daughter Charlotte. They'd be staying with Will and Emma up until the night before the wedding when Emma would leave their apartment and stay with her parents at Jack's. It was all very confusing and Emma was still having trouble figuring out who was bunking where when.

Will opened the car door for her and allowed her to slide into the front seat, before jogging around and taking his place behind the wheel.

"You know, your father said I'd be getting something new soon."

"Excuse me?" Will risked a glance at her before returning his focus to the rearview mirror as he backed out of the driveway.

Emma shrugged. "When your father was giving me my 'something borrowed,' he said I'd be getting something new soon."

Will exhaled roughly and shook his head. "That old dog."

"What?"

Will sighed. "Let's just say that your something new is waiting at home. And let's also just say that one of the many things I've learned from these wedding preparations is that my father cannot keep a secret."

Emma's stomach flipped as she thought of what could be waiting for her and as Will covered her eyes with his discarded tie and led her from the front door to the bedroom, she could have sworn she fell even more in love with him, which she wasn't even sure was all that possible.

"He was with me when I picked it out. I think that's how he knew to give you the earrings," he said as he removed the tie, leaving her to blink in the harsh light of the bedroom.

In his hand rested a blue leather box, not all that dissimilar from the case which housed the pearl drop earrings, and as he opened it, she saw the most beautiful pearl necklace she had ever laid eyes on.

"Oh my God, Will." One hand flew to her mouth, the other to her chest, as he gently removed the necklace and gestured towards her neck.

"May I?"

She nodded, unable to form a coherent sentence, as she lifted her hair and allowed him to secure the pearls around her. He spun her towards the mirror and rested his chin on her shoulder.

"It's too much, Will."

He shook his head. "No. If anything, it's not enough."

She opened her mouth to argue, but was silenced as he placed a finger to her lips.

"Emma, you have to know something. I've been in love with you longer than I had any right to be, and I'm going to spend the rest of my life making sure that I deserve your love in return."

"Will…"

She hadn't been able to verbally thank him, but as she stripped him of his sweater and jeans, she thought of other ways to show her gratitude.

Saturday melted into Sunday and they spent the majority of their days tying up loose ends and falling into bed. Wednesday rolled around and the glee kids shored up their performance (behind closed doors, of course) and John and Anna arrived with Charlotte in tow.

It was the first time Emma was actually meeting Will's cousin and best man, who was more of a brother than anything else. It felt odd to be more acquainted with the daughter, who practically launched herself from the front door into Emma's arms, than with the parents. But John and Anna were like Will: genuine, open, and quick to laugh.

Dinner was had and a game of Monopoly was started as Will, John and Charlotte settled on the floor around the coffee table.

"I want to be the dog," Charlotte said as she thumbed through the silver pieces.

"Please," Anna corrected from the couch.

"Please." Charlotte smiled at her mother and gave Will a toothy grin. "You're the top hat."

"Oh am I?"

"Yes because you're getting married and you're gonna be fancy."

"Valid reason," Will chuckled.

Emma rested her chin on her hand and just watched as Charlotte tossed the die across the board, sending them scattering onto the carpet. Will was patient as he collected the die and handed them to Charlotte once again.

"He's so good with her," Anna murmured.

"Yes," Emma sighed. "Yes he is."

Eventually, the little girl passed out in Will's lap as the adults discussed the weekend's schedule.

"Will and I are working until Friday, so we can save our vacation days for the honeymoon. The rehearsal will be at 5:00 with dinner afterwards."

"And when does your brother and his family get in?" Anna asked as John gently lifted Charlotte from Will's arms.

Emma shook her head. "Hopefully Friday afternoon, but they're driving, so who knows. If his sense of direction is anything to go by, we might not see them until Sunday."

Indeed, as Emma sat in her office that Friday afternoon constantly glancing at her phone, her anxiety grew with every minute that passed without it vibrating across the desk. Kate was her maid of honor and James was one of Will's groomsmen. Thank goodness she had scheduled her manicure for Saturday morning because she surely would have picked it apart by now.

"Anything?" Will popped his head in and the tension seemed to ease from her shoulders just at the sight of him.

"No. Nothing."

He came around and perched on the edge of her desk, cupping her cheek in his palm. "They'll be here. And if they miss the rehearsal, we'll just get to the church early tomorrow and go through it."

"Well, you'll have to go through it with him. You and I aren't allowed to see each other."

He grinned. "True. I'll miss you tonight."

She sighed heavily. "I'll miss you too."

"William. Elmo." Sue's voice was like rain on a summer picnic. "So I hear the big day is a mere 24 hours away. I'm assuming my invitation got lost in the mail."

"You're not invited, Sue."

Leave it to Will to skip niceties and just come right out with it. True, Sue's barbs had gotten more vicious in the days leading up to the wedding, but Emma usually attempted to be polite for propriety's sake. But not Will.

"And if I see you, I will personally escort you from the premises," he continued.

Emma had to admit, she liked this side of him. So much, in fact, that she desperately wanted Sue to leave so she could bend him backwards across the desk and kiss the living daylights out of him.

"Oh, William, don't get your knickers in a twist. I just came to give you my present." She placed an envelope on the desk. "A gift certificate for sterilization. The last thing this town needs is some sponge-haired, ginger-tinted pygmy singing and dancing down Main Street."

"You might want to leave then because I'm tempted to take Emma on this desk and impregnate her right here and now."

Emma's eyebrows hit her hairline. Will's thoughts were frighteningly in sync with her own.

"How dare you - "

"Miss Sylvester?" Quinn appeared in the doorway, drawing Sue's attention away from Will's reddening face. "Jacob Ben Israel has camouflaged himself and is attempting to camp out in the women's lockeroom."

If there was one thing that Sue hated more than Will and Emma's happiness, it was Jacob Ben Israel and his attempts to send photos of the Cheerios to Playboy, as much as Sue would have reveled in the publicity.

With a final glare at Will and Emma, Sue turned on her heel and disappeared in a rampage down the hall. Quinn waited until she was out of sight before giving a thumbs up to her teachers and disappearing in the other direction.

Emma knew she liked that girl.

"Impregnating me on a desk? Really, Mr. Schuester?" Emma ran her fingers down his vest, popping the top button open.

"I really do want to take you right here, right now," he whispered huskily in her ear.

"Don't make promises you can't keep." She nipped at his earlobe and he groaned.

"It's going to be a very long 24 hours."

Emma chuckled and rebuttoned his vest. "I can guarantee it'll be worth the wait."

And with that, she sauntered out of the office towards the faculty lounge for lunch, not even bothering to ensure that he was following. The sound of his knee swiftly colliding with her desk confirmed it.

That evening, Emma glanced at her watch for the thirtieth time in the last five minutes. The rehearsal was supposed to start fifteen minutes ago, but her brother and family were still MIA. They had called and mentioned something about a three car pile up, but service was spotty and the call was eventually lost.

Emma was rapidly wearing a hole in the carpet of the church as Anna, Charlotte and Shannon Beiste watched idly from the doorway.

"Sorry we're late, sorry we're late." James jogged into the vestibule, tie askew, with Ben tucked under one arm and Kate's hand in the other. "Minor car sickness emergency on the highway."

Emma laughed and kissed his cheek. "Doesn't matter. You're here now." Her relief at seeing her brother was palpable and she was surprised to find herself swallowing back tears.

"Where am I supposed to be?" James craned his neck, seemingly looking for the groom. Emma pointed towards the front of the church where Will stood talking to the priest. "Ah yes. Duty calls." And then he was off, briskly walking down the aisle and tackling Will in a hug.

The rehearsal went off without a hitch as soon as Charlotte learned to walk in a straight line and not chat up the people in the pews. Will and Emma exchanged a fake "I do" and the priest declared them ready for the real thing.

Dinner was a rowdy affair, with Jack, Nathan, and Uncle Rob sharing story after story, Charlotte and Ben running around the table and Will and Emma holding court with James, Kate, John, Anna and Shannon. Emma's mother and Aunt Joanie were drowning their sorrows in glasses of chardonnay, wailing on about how their babies were "all grown up."

Two hours and three glasses of champagne later, Emma wrapped her arms around Will's neck and kissed him on the cheek.

"Hello, my future husband."

"Hello, my future wife."

"Where's Charlotte?"

Will lifted the tablecloth to show the little girl, curled up in a ball and completely passed out by his feet.

"Apparently there was a game of hide and seek," he explained. "She hid and that was that."

Emma chuckled. "We should head out soon. I have to get my stuff together."

But getting her stuff together meant saying goodbye and neither Will nor Emma was particularly looking forward to that. They hadn't spent a night apart since Emma had gone running to her parents' earlier that Spring and the bruises from those lonely evenings were still raw.

Emma ran around the apartment, scouring the surfaces for anything she might be forgetting. Her hair and nails would be done at the salon, so she needn't worry about that, but simple things like her toothbrush and major things like her dress and veil had her flying about like dervish.

"Em, Em, if we forget anything, I'll run back and pick it up tomorrow morning. This isn't goodbye forever," Kate reasoned.

"You're right. No, you're right." Emma bit her lip as she scanned her home a final time. A part of her brain was wondering, though, if her anxiety over forgetting something was really just a reluctance to part from Will. Coming to the conclusion that she really was just delaying the inevitable, she allowed Kate to take her bag to the car as John and Anna retreated to their room, giving the betrothed a moment alone.

"Well this is it." He smiled but his eyes were glossy and he took her hands in his. "I'll see you tomorrow."

She swallowed hard and held on tight. "See you tomorrow."

"I'll be the one at the front of the altar," he clarified.

"I'll be the one in white," she replied.

"Oh good, I was confused."

She gently swatted his arm but he grabbed her to his chest and crushed her lips in a fierce kiss.

"I love you so much," he breathed as he pressed his forehead to hers.

'I love you too," she replied.

With great reluctance, she let her arms fall from his as she picked up her bag and took a step towards the door.

"Bye."

He shoved his hands in his pockets most likely to keep them from reaching out for her again. "Bye."

Kate didn't comment on the tears that streamed down Emma's face as she drove them to Jack's house. Her father didn't rib her for heading straight upstairs as soon as she arrived and her mother didn't say a word when she sat down on the edge of Emma's bed and gently ran a brush through her daughter's hair.

She was feeling so much, she wasn't sure which to focus on. Excitement, terror, pressure, love. Her heart hammered against her chest but whether it was out of anticipation or anxiety, she wasn't quite sure. She had always imagined how she'd spend her final night of being single. When she was a teen, she had heard legends of bachelorette parties that left brides hungover on their big day. Will and Emma had agreed that they didn't want any major parties. The act of getting married was celebration enough.

But as her lids drooped at the feeling of her mother's fingers in her hair, Emma wondered vaguely if it was enough, but as she drifted off with Will's face in her mind, she knew that even at her worst, she was still the best to him.

Morning came in the form of Ben climbing onto her bed (with a little help from Kate), as her mother carried a tray bearing tea and toast. Her hair was piled high on her head and dotted with baby's breath with a simple silver tiara to hold the veil in place.

She was hurried into the vestibule of the church after she was assured that Will wasn't peeking out of a window, but the longer she sat and the more people fussed, the more panicked she became. Marriage was a huge, binding deal. What if Will realized that he couldn't deal with her crazy? She had gotten better, but she wasn't perfect. They were about to be joined together for the rest of their lives in the eyes of the law, God, and a hundred or so of their closest family and friends. Her old fears haunted her with a question she thought she had squelched months ago: what if she wasn't enough?

The strapless dress, though gorgeous, was tight across her midsection and it was becoming difficult to force the breath from her lungs.

"Emma, what's going on?" Her mother's concerned face came into her line of vision and she shook her head.

"I don't know."

"Cold feet?"

"I don't know, Mama!" Emma's nerves were rapidly descending into panic and her chest rose and fell as her ears began to ring.

"Get Will."

"No, don't get Will!" Emma managed to gasp, but Kate was out the door anyway.

"Emma, Emma listen to me," Adeline led her over to a chair and sat her down, before gently fanning her face with a spare program. "Slow breaths, that's a girl. Nice and slow."

"Emma…" Kate's tentative voice entered the room once more, but Emma's vision swam and it was hard to focus on her. "Will's here."

"Don't let him in."

"He's not coming in," her mother reassured. "He's outside the door."

Emma felt herself nod but any other physical movement was absolutely out of the question until she got her breathing under control.

"We're going to give you two a minute," her mother said, patting her shoulder and shutting the door behind her. A gentle knock came a moment later and Emma managed to shakily stand and make her way to a chair closer to the door.

"Baby? Can you hear me?"

Emma swallowed hard in an attempt to move the lump in her throat. "Yeah, I can hear you."

"Good." He fell silent again.

Her heart beat a vicious drum against her sternum and her breath came out in pants.

"You're not running again on me, are you?" His tone attempted to be light, but Emma could hear the note of fear lurking beneath the surface.

"No, I'm not running."

"Good. Because you know I'd chase after you, right? Even in this penguin suit and these slippery shoes… I'd track you down."

She let out a noise that was half laugh, half sob. "I have no doubt."

"I've told you before, Em. I can pick your perfume out of a flower shop. So no matter how cold your feet get or how far you run, I'll find you."

Tears trailed down Emma's cheeks, mascara be damned. "I know," she whispered.

"Talk to me. What's going on?"

She had strength enough in her legs to stand and she made her way over to the door.

"I'm scared," she whispered.

"Of what?" he replied. "Not of me, I hope."

"No." She wiped the back of her hand across her eyes, knowing full well she'd need to redo her makeup if she wanted to be seen publicly for the rest of the day. "Not of you. It's just…"

"Just what, sweetheart?"

"We've been through so much, Will…" she trailed off and willed the tears not to fall to her cheeks. "What if… what if I lose you? What if it doesn't work out? I don't… I don't think I'd survive that."

"Em," his voice was loud through the crack of the doorjamb, "I'm not going anywhere. Yes, we'll have fights, and yes there will probably be nights when I sleep on the couch, but I will never, ever leave you. Not after it took me so long to get you. I'm not giving up that easily."

She leaned her forehead against the door and let her palm rest against the wood, knowing he was doing the same on the other side.

"So I'm yours," he continued. "If you'll still have me."

"Are you sure?" she cursed the wobble in her voice. "Because this is it. Your last chance."

She could practically hear his smile. "What? To back out?"

"Yes, to back out," she laughed.

His head _thunked _against the wood. "I'd marry you through this door if I had to."

Emma couldn't help but laugh, because she knew he'd have the priest there in a heartbeat if asked.

"Marry me, Emma. I've been waiting so long to make you my wife."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

His hopeful tone was infectious and she couldn't help the laugh that escaped as she exclaimed, "Okay!" again. "Now go away. I have to go walk down an aisle."

"Yes, ma'am."

She frantically began dabbing at her face with a tissue, hoping her mother hadn't strayed too far, when Will's voice interrupted her again.

"Hey, Em?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you. So very, very much."

She placed her hand on the door, thinking that if she imagined hard enough, she could almost feel the fabric of his suit and the warmth of his body under her palm.

"I love you too."

She heard him move away from the door and a moment later, her mother reappeared, eyes red, proving that she had heard more than her fair share of the conversation. Her makeup was reapplied, her bouquet fetched and her veil fluffed.

Before she knew it, she was watching Charlotte toss flower petals into the air as an amused Will looked on. But the wedding march began and his attention was for all intents and purposes held hostage by her appearance at end of the aisle.

There were many things leading up to that moment that Emma knew she'd remember. The prick of the thorns from the roses in her hand, the feel of her arm linked tightly with her father's, the organ reverberating off the stained glass windows.

But the look on Will's face as she first locked eyes with him was a moment she would carry with her for the rest of her life.


	30. Rings

**My sincerest apologies for the delay! I was in the middle of finals hell. I can almost 99% promise that you'll never have to wait that long again. BUT on a brighter note, Glee was filming on my street and, yes indeed, they are just as attractive in person as they are on the small screen. **

_Rings_

The music thumped through the base and Emma laughed in the dim light of the flickering candles.

"_Hi." _

"_Hi." _

Will's lips pressed against the back of her neck and he nodded along with the story James drunkenly slurred through.

"_Take care of my little girl." _

"_Yes, Sir." _

Charlotte twirled in her tulle dress before standing on John's feet and swaying along with the music.

"_Do you, William Ethan Schuester, take Emma Anne Pillsbury to be your lawfully wedded wife?"_

"_I do." _

Emma placed her hand in the crook of Will's as his palm pressed gently, but securely, against her lower back.

"_And do you, Emma Anne Pillsbury, take William Ethan Schuester to be your lawfully wedded husband?" _

"_I do." _

He led her effortlessly around the dance floor and so content was she in his embrace that the weight of a hundred gazes did nothing to falter her steps.

"_I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride." _

The music faded but Emma's temple remained glued to Will's cheek as their swaying slowed to a stop. The distant sound of applause caused her eyes to flutter open and she met the loving gaze of her husband. _Husband._ Tears pricked her eyes and she laughed at his questioning glance.

"I'm just happy."

His smile matched hers and he placed a kiss on her head. "You know, the last time we did this," he murmured in her ear, nodding to the dance floor, "you were in a whole different wedding dress."

She closed her eyes and pressed her nose against his chest, blocking out the memories of past mistakes as his after-shave clouded her mind. The bandleader 's voice echoed around the ballroom and Will led Emma off the dance floor.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the very talented New Directions have something they'd like to say."

As Will and Emma took their seats at the head table again, the kids took center stage in their wedding finery. The bandleader handed Finn a microphone, which was promptly snatched out of his hand by Rachel, which was then snatched out of her hand by Kurt.

"Oh, Mr. Schue..." Kurt began, shaking his head. "It seems like so long ago that you bolted out of the choir room after our, I must say, _spectacular_ performance of the Kelly Clarkson classic 'My Life Would Suck Without You.' We weren't quite sure where you were going but a quick peek down the hall told us you had more important things to attend to. So, rest assured, we didn't take it personally."

Emma blushed furiously and buried her face in Will's shoulder.

"Miss Pillsbury, don't hide. Oh," Kurt put a finger to his lip. "I guess it's _Mrs._ Schue now, though, isn't it."

Will's grip tightened on her hand and she couldn't help but smile at hearing her new moniker.

"The fact is…" Kurt continued, "We wouldn't be here without you, Mr. Schue. And Mrs. Schue, without you, we wouldn't have been able to go to Sectionals, therefore we wouldn't have had a trophy to present to Mr. Schue or a phenomenal Kelly Clarkson performance to sing, which caused Mr. Schue to run down the hall and kiss you... So clearly, this wedding is completely our doing," Kurt said, as if his logic was completely sound.

Chuckles spread throughout the ballroom as Finn grabbed the microphone again. "What Kurt's trying to say, Mr. and Mrs. Schue, is that you mean a lot to us, and we're so happy you're finally, you know, together. For good. So in keeping with our Bruno Mars/wedding theme…" Finn glanced around at his fellow glee-clubbers. "This is for you."

The kids spread out on the stage and Will swallowed hard, already fighting against his emotions. The piano started up as both Rachel and Finn raised the microphone to their lips.

_"If you ever find yourself stuck in the middle of the sea, I'll sail the world to find you. If you ever find yourself lost in the dark and you can't see, I'll be the light to guide you. Find out what we're made of, What we are called to help our friends in need."_

Rachel and Finn stepped back allowing Kurt and Mercedes to take the spotlight.

_"You can count on me like one, two, three, I'll be there and I know when I need it, I can count on you like four, three, two, And you'll be there 'cause that's what friends are supposed to do, oh yeah."_

Emma tried to breathe past the lump in her throat, but it was difficult as hot tears spilled onto her cheeks. The club continued to serenade in pairs and the guests swayed to the music. Emma caught Jack's eye and he gave her a watery smile, no doubt overwhelmed by the effect his son had had on the kids.

"_You can count on me 'cause I can count on you."_ The song wound down and both Will and Emma stood and clapped to show their appreciation. Finn bounded off the stage and practically tackled Will in a hug. Kurt, thankfully, was a little gentler with Emma.

Throughout the exchanges, Will's hand always seemed to find Emma again in between every hug from the students. It was on her lower back, resting on her hip, cradling the back of her neck. She relished the fact that he couldn't stop touching her, that every time she went to greet another guest, he followed as if tethered.

So when his hand left her knee to pick up his knife and clink it delicately on the half-empty champagne glass in front of him, her brow creased in confusion and her heart pounded against her ribs. They hadn't talked about speaking; that wasn't in the plan. Will stood and cleared his throat as his hand came to rest on the back of her neck again.

"Well, you've heard from the best man, the matron of honor and the kids of McKinley, all of whom are a good deal more eloquent than I'm about to be." He glanced down at Emma and winked and the knot in her stomach loosened every so slightly. "A few weeks ago, Emma approached me with an absolutely terrifying idea. 'Why don't we write our own vows,' she said." Chuckles broke out. "I have to admit that the thought of writing my own vows instilled an unnatural fear in me. Emma was gracious and saved me from myself, though, by agreeing to go the more traditional route, but as I was standing up there today, the words ran me over like a truck," his voice cracked and Emma held her breath. "So you'll have to forgive me, but there are a few things that you have to know about my wife."

Emma inhaled an involuntary gasp and Will cleared his throat.

"It's not really common knowledge, but I almost left McKinley; almost gave up being a teacher to pursue something that would strengthen my bank account, but not my passion. It was Emma that helped me realize what a horrible decision that would have been."

Puck called out his affirmation and the guests laughed again.

"She sat me down and showed me something, something that I had forgotten about in my quest to be everything for everyone. I rescinded my notice that day. And it's one of the best decisions I've ever made."

Emma's hand pressed against her chest, feeling as if her heart could burst.

"Emma's really good at that – helping people make good decisions. That's probably why she's a guidance counselor and one of the best Ohio has to offer."

Someone from the glee table cat-called and Will chuckled.

"Clearly I'm not the only one to think that."

His thumb traced patterns on her shoulder, but his eyes continued to scan the room. Emma would bet her pearl necklace that he refused to look at her in an effort to not completely lose it.

"She's seen me at my best and my worst, talked me down from ledges, told me to man-up. Made me laugh, made me cry. She's a beautiful woman, kind, caring, passionate, patient… She saved my life." Will glanced down and locked eyes with his bride. "And I love her more than anything."

Tears spilled down Emma's cheeks and her lower lip wobbled.

"So if we had been writing our own vows, that's what I would have said." He shrugged as his voice cracked. "I just wanted you to know."

Applause erupted and Emma stood on shaky legs as she wrapped her arms around his neck. The noise seemed to be sucked through a vacuum, though, as all Emma could focus on was the man in front of her, his words still echoing in her ears.

"I love you so much," she managed through her tears.

"I love you too," he replied, his voice rough.

The band struck up again and couples moved onto the dance floor. Emma couldn't stop staring at her husband, not even letting go of his arm so he could hug his father. Jack pressed a kiss to her cheek and offered a firm nod, his voice having been completely stolen by the love and joy he saw etched on his son's face.

Emma's parents offered similar silent, but heartfelt gestures. Her father practically tackled Will, having finally been convinced that his baby girl was indeed in good hands.

Emma stared around the room at her closest family and friends. She had never felt so much love in a room before and her laughter was the only outlet her joy had.

Will was whisked off to the dance floor where the glee kids had formed a circle as Mike challenged Will to a dance-off. The circle widened until it spanned the whole circumference of the floor and Kurt busted a move, followed by Will, then John, then Charlotte, then Will again.

Emma cheered from the sidelines but vehemently declined her brother's invitation from the middle of the circle.

"Absolutely not!" she yelled over the music.

"Oh come on, Em! The last time we danced together, you were wearing saddle shoes and pigtails."

James started a chant of "Em-ma, Em-ma" and, with a dramatic roll of her eyes, she allowed herself to be dragged to the middle of the floor where her brother seemed to be doing a cross between the robot and the dougie. Emma was eventually rescued by Mercedes and Tina as Brittany tried to teach James the proper way to do it. But he just ended up looking like a flailing chicken.

Will approached her with a glass of champagne in his hand. His flushed face and glazed eyes told her that the bubbles were going to his head, which was no surprise seeing as they barely had time to eat. They were constantly meeting people, thanking them for coming, and yet, magically, a drink was always in their hands. Emma had started leaving a trail of glasses on random tables around the room once she started feeling the effects of the alcohol.

The bandleader announced it was time for the bouquet toss and the girls lined up as Emma took aim, sending the bouquet of deep orange flowers straight into Rachel Berry's arms. She alarmingly looked at Finn who seemed to pale a few shades as Will clapped him roughly on the back.

"And now for the garter!" the bandleader announced.

Will's face lit up as he leveled Emma with quite a mischievous glance. She blushed and covered her face with her hands as Kate ushered her into a chair. Will leaned down and placed a kiss on her lips.

"You taste like champagne," she whispered.

"You taste like strawberries." He grinned.

"No," she giggled, shaking her head. "You're tasting the strawberries that were _in_ your champagne."

Cat-calls echoed around the hall as Will knelt down in front of her and gently took her ankle in his hand.

"Well, well, well, Mrs. Schuester, what have we here?" His fingertips slowly started to inch up her leg and she buried her face in her hands as the glee kids laughed and whistled from the other side of the dance floor.

His fingers tickled her skin as he brushed across her kneecap, before reaching the fabric of the garter.

"We could pretend that you put it up higher," he whispered, as his hand ghosted across the inside of her thigh, making her squirm.

"Don't you dare."

A grin broke out across his face as he hooked his fingers in the garter and gently pulled it down her leg, before twirling the strip of navy blue silk around his finger, much to the delight of the wedding guests.

The guys lined up and Will turned his back, sling-shotting the elastic fabric over his head and into the crowd. Laughter broke out as Emma watched the garter smack Kurt straight in the face.

"Oh that's so not fair!" Puck complained. "He won't even enjoy putting it on Berry!"

Kurt rolled his eyes and passed the garter over to Finn, who looked at it completely dumbfounded as Rachel took her seat in Emma's chair and held her ankle out expectantly.

"You've got to be kidding me," he murmured.

"Come on, Finn. It's tradition!" Rachel called.

Emma shook her head and wrapped her arm around Will's waist as they watched Finn clumsily slide the garter up Rachel's calf. When he reached her knee, Burt Hummel called out, "That's high enough!" and Finn dropped the fabric as if burned.

The music slowed down and Will had reached out a hand to Emma, but a tug on his tux proved that this dance was already spoken for. A smiling Charlotte was reaching up for Will as he scooped her into his arms and, with an apologetic glance to Emma, began swaying back and forth.

Emma felt a tap on her shoulder and she spun to see the goofy grin on Finn's face.

"May I have this dance?"

A fondness for the teen swelled within her and she responded, "Of course you may."

He was awkward as he put his hand on her back, but she just giggled and nodded her consent. He was taller than Will and her neck hurt from leaning back to look up at his face.

"Are you having a good time?"

Finn nodded enthusiastically. "Great wedding."

"Thank you for the song, Finn. And your kind words. I can't begin to tell you what you mean to Will. Or Mr. Schue, I guess. You mean a lot to both of us."

Before Finn could respond, Will's voice called out from across the dance floor.

"Hudson! You making a move on my girl?"

"No, sir," Finn laughed.

"I thought I was your girl," Charlotte said as she stuck her lower lip out.

"You're always my girl," Will replied as he kissed her cheek.

Emma was musing about how good Will looked with a child in his arms, when Finn's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"You two are going to be really happy together."

"Finn, I can only hope that you find someone who makes you as happy as Will makes me. Then again," her gaze settled on Rachel as she slow danced with Kurt, "Maybe you already have."

Finn blushed and ducked his head as Will appeared over his shoulder.

"May I cut in?"

Emma watched as Charlotte scampered off to grab a cookie from the dessert table and Finn stepped back, guiding her hand into her husband's.

"By all means," he replied, stepping away.

The warmth of Will's palm had become familiar, as had the smell of his cologne and sound of his heartbeat against her ear. The rest of the room faded away as she closed her eyes and rested her cheek against the fabric of his tuxedo.

"Did it meet expectations?" he murmured in her ear, a slight slur in his voice.

"Surpassed." She sighed, utterly content in the safety of his arms.

They had danced together many times, but she still got butterflies in her stomach as if it was their very first. She had no idea what she was doing, but she found that if she closed her eyes and didn't think about it, Will would expertly guide her feet where they needed to be. She placed her trust in him and followed his lead, even if they were both in a champagne fog.

She stifled a yawn and pressed her forehead against his chin. "What time is it?"

"Late," he replied.

People had been slowly filtering out for the better part of an hour, saying their goodbyes and wishing the newlyweds well. The reception had flown by, after pictures were taken and toasts were made. The glee kids were still holding court on the dance floor and Jack and Nathan could be seen on the veranda smoking a cigar. Emma didn't even have the energy to scold her father.

"Will?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Let's get outta here."

"You got it."

Their family and friends seemed quite content to carry on the party without them and, after some tearful, jovial, and downright raucous goodbyes, Emma and Will climbed into the back of a limo to make the drive to the hotel where they'd spend the night before leaving the following morning for their honeymoon. Jack had treated them to a night at the Ritz in Cincinnati, so they didn't have far to drive to the airport.

A bottle of champagne was chilling in the ice bucket in the back of the car with a note from her parents to "Enjoy!" and, since she no longer had to act the part of blushing bride, she surprised both Will and herself when she popped the cork without help and poured two glasses to the brim.

"To my husband," she clinked her glass with his.

"To my wife," he replied, as he placed a delicate kiss on her lips.

She laced her fingers through his and stared at the ring on his finger, a sudden elation running through her. How often had she sat across from him at the lunch table or the faculty meeting, staring at a ring that mocked her, haunted her daydreams, and informed her most clearly that he would never be hers? How often did she wish she could just pretend it didn't exist, that the looks he gave her meant something? But the gold band was hard to wish away and even when it was finally gone, it was hard for her to rejoice in its disappearance, knowing that she'd take on his heartbreak if she could, for his pain pierced her as well.

But now he wore another ring – one that she had put on his finger – and the sight of it erased every bad memory and every sharp ache that his prior one had caused.

By the time they pulled up in front of the hotel, ¾ of the champagne bottle was gone and Will and Emma had spent the last hour and a half entertaining themselves by going over the more amusing moments of the day, like Kurt catching the garter or Puck trying to tie beer cans to the back of the limo before the driver ran him off.

Their bags were loaded onto a trolley and people pointed and "ooh-ed" as they walked through the lobby in their wedding finery. They stumbled into the honeymoon suite to fine yet another bottle of champagne, this one sent by John and Anna, waiting in the ice bucket. 

"You've got to be kidding me," Emma said as she lifted it up.

"Wow," Will squinted his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm… drunk. I think I'm drunk. How are you not drunk?"

"I'm buzzed, but I'm not drunk." She let the bottle clunk back into the bucket. "Anyway, it's not classy for a bride to be drunk on her wedding day."

"Yes. I mean, no."

She raised her eyebrows. "What?"

"I don't know." Will gave a childish shrug and a dopey grin. "I love you."

"Wow, you are drunk." Emma couldn't help but chuckle as he dropped his tux jacket to the ground and struggled to free himself from his vest.

"How many layers am I _wearing_?" he mumbled, closing one eye in an effort to see only one set of buttons instead of two.

Emma walked over and grabbed hold of his labels, placing a kiss on his chin and then one on his nose.

"You are so gorgeous," he whispered, as he tucked a wayward piece of hair behind her ear. "You took my breath away today."

"Likewise." She ran her fingers down the smooth fabric of his tux and rested her forehead against his chest. "Let's go to bed."

"But… " he gave a gentle tug on her wedding dress. "I wanna make love to you."

She cupped his cheek and kissed his forehead. "We have our whole lives for you to ravish me."

"Mmm, ravish. I like that word."

She placed her palm against his chest and shoved, giggling lightly as he fell back against the bed. Going to sleep was just fine by her. Though Will looked positively delicious in his tux, the emotion of the day had worn her thin, and she wanted their first act of intimacy as husband and wife to be something both she and her husband remembered.

She was shaken from her thoughts as Will struggled to sit up again and only succeeded in rolling over so far that he thumped to the floor.

"Oww."

Emma choked out a laugh and stood over him, hands on her hips. "Oh boy. What am I going to do with you?"

"Marry me."

"I already did. I do hope you haven't forgotten," she said as she nudged him with her toe.

He rolled over again, the imprint of the carpet marring his cheek. "Best day of my life." He grabbed her hand and the sudden seriousness in his eyes sobered her. "You are the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Her throat tightened and she felt the familiar constriction in her chest that only a glance like that from Will could give her.

"You're the best thing to ever happen to me too," she choked out.

Will grinned – the seriousness was still there but the champagne-induced spark was back as well. "So I propose that you help me out of this penguin suit, since I can't seem to undress myself… And since you won't let me ravish you, I further propose that we snuggle and sleep and wake up preferably not hungover."

She laughed. "Well, I can do the first, second, and third, but I'm afraid you're on your own with the fourth."

Her fingers dance down the front of his vest, deftly undoing the buttons and letting the garment fall to the floor. Will attempted to toe off his shoes but stumbled, grabbing onto the bed for support. Emma giggled and undid his shirt, before pushing him back and sliding his pants down his legs. She hung his suit up on the door for the hotel to ship back to their apartment, since a gown and tuxedo had no place in the Caribbean, before turning and beginning to unzip the back of her dress.

"Wait." He caught her arm and spun her around. "Let me." He reached forward and gently, almost reverently, lowered the zipper, holding up the dress so it didn't crumple to the ground. "As beautiful as you looked in it, I've been waiting to do that all day."

Emma blushed and stepped out of the gown, before going over and rooting through the suitcase for her toiletry bag. She felt Will's eyes on her and she turned to find him staring, as she stood in only her bra and a slip.

"What?" She self-consciously crossed her arms over her chest, his gaze boring a hole into her soul.

"I'm just memorizing this moment."

She wasn't sure how much more she could love this man, but he continued to surprise her. She stepped in between his boxer-clad legs and wrapped her arms around his bare chest.

"Promise me. Promise me that we'll be together forever."

He grinned against her collarbone. "I already promised you that today."

"Promise me again." She had attempted to sound lighthearted, but the words got stuck in her throat, betraying her greatest fear.

Will pulled away, sobriety coming to his eyes as he took her face in his palms.

"I promise you that we will be together through birthdays and regular days, through funerals and parties, through children and grandchildren, through sickness and health…"

"For better or for worse?" She smiled.

"Through the good times and the bad," he replied.

"Til death parts us."

"Til death parts us."

They brushed their teeth and washed their faces, turned down the ridiculous-sized bed, and crawled under the covers. Emma immediately reached for him in the darkness and curled into his side.

If everyday began and ended like this – his breath in her hair and his heartbeat in her ear – then life would be very good, indeed.

"Goodnight, husband," she whispered.

"Goodnight, wife," he replied.

_Wife._

Emma fell asleep with a smile on her face.


	31. Honeymoons

**For you conspiracy theorists out there, no I am not Brad Falchuk. But it was incredibly sweet of you to ask. P.S. Sauciness ahead. No seriously, it's naughty. **

_Honeymoons_

The floor shifted and Emma braced her hands against the wall to keep herself upright.

The boat from St. Thomas to the tiny island they'd be staying on pitched on the waves as it made its way across the sound. It was a ferry but not a very large one and in the battle between scow and sea, sea was rapidly winning.

Below-decks smelled weird, like a combination of mold, rust, and seaweed, and Emma had a tiny bottle of hand-sanitizer strapped to her hip like a cowboy.

A rather loud cough echoed down the narrow hallway and Emma's heart broke. From the moment they stepped onto the boat, Will turned several shades of green, biting his lip and taking deep breaths with every wave the boat rocked over. He eventually gave up trying not to lose his lunch and bolted below deck.

Emma reached the door labeled "Head," for this was apparently what the sailors called toilets, and gave a gentle knock. 

"Will?"

She heard a groan and the door was eventually opened to reveal her newly minted husband, pale and sweaty, as he propped himself up in the tiny room.

"Oh, sweetheart," she murmured as she squeezed into the room next to him. She had to admit, this was just one ridiculous moment of many that had plagued them that day.

Will woke up hungover, despite his fervent proclamations the night before that he would be fine. They overslept, which resulted in a mad dash around the honeymoon suite to collect their things and head to the airport. The flight was shockingly on time and they made it just before the door closed. After one very strong cocktail called a "Painkiller," a terrifying taxi ride around seaside cliffs, and the most rickety dock Emma had ever set foot on, here they were, on a rusty boat headed for what Will promised to be the most beautiful island Emma had ever seen.

Emma pulled a napkin out of her purse, doused it with cold water from the tap, and placed it on the back of Will's neck.

"I'm from Ohio," Will groaned as his head emerged briefly from the tiny toilet. "We don't do boats."

Emma hid her smile behind her palm and attempted a sympathetic tone. "Poor baby."

Apparently she failed, because Will managed an eye roll before burying his head and retching again.

"Why on earth did you choose to honeymoon on an _island,_ then?" Emma finally burst out laughing at the absurdity of the situation.

Will shook his head but managed a chuckle. "Maybe I wanted to see you in a bikini."

Emma sighed and ran her hand up and down his back. "You can see me in a bikini in the local park."

"Mmmm. But summer is eight months away. I couldn't wait that long." He flushed the toilet and washed his face as Emma handed him a tiny bottle of mouthwash.

"You know, we haven't made love yet as husband and wife," she said.

Will lifted his head and cocked his eyebrow. "Please tell me you're not trying to seduce me here. Because as disgusting as this place is, I truly might not be able to restrain myself."

"Ew no!" Emma swatted at him. "I'm merely reminding you of the fact."

"Oh trust me," he grinned, "I haven't forgotten. I was all for fooling around on the plane, but you shot that idea down really quick."

"It's a felony!"

"One which would be totally worth going to jail for," he reasoned.

The engines slowed and Will peered out the porthole.

"Oh thank God, I see land."

Emma opened the door and promptly squeezed some hand sanitizer into her palm before doing the same for Will. As they emerged on deck again, the breeze was welcome as Will regained some of his color, and they watched as the plank was lowered onto the dock and their bags removed from the bowels of the boat.

Emma gazed in awe at the turquoise water and white beaches. The island was small and the resort promised seclusion, but the dirt road dotted with brightly colored houses was more than she could have hoped for. An ice cream shop was nestled next to a general store, as a healthy line of palm trees separated the road from the beach. As far as Emma could see, the wardrobe of choice was just a bathing suit and sandals and she tugged at her sundress feeling suddenly overdressed.

Will beamed down at her as he took in their surroundings. The distant sound of steel drums floated from the beachside bars and people emerged from under the thatched roofs clutching brightly colored frozen drinks garnished with oranges, cherries, and pineapple.

"Will, it's beautiful." She fished her sunglasses out of her bag and laced her fingers through his.

"Mr. and Mrs. Schuester?" A small man with white shorts and a straw hat approached them, leaving a six person golf cart idling in the middle of the road.

"Yes?" Will answered. "Are you from the villa?"

"Yes, sir, I am," the man replied. "My name is Maurice."

He had the whitest smile Emma had ever seen and it shone even brighter against his dark skin.

"Nice to meet you, Maurice." Will shook his hand as Maurice asked them about their trip.

The bag was promptly taken out of Emma's hand as Will and Maurice piled their things into the back of the golf cart. She tried to keep up with the conversation but the sound of "Mr. and Mrs. Schuester" was still echoing in her ears. From what she gathered, their villa was on the other side of the island and Maurice was going to drive them over the hill that separated the two major bays. Will climbed into the back of the golf cart with her and held her hand, knowing full well that not having much between her and the seaside cliff next to them would unnerve her to no end.

Will nodded politely and answered all of Maurice's questions as they climbed higher through the foliage on the only paved road the island had to offer. Emma gripped his hand as the trees parted and she saw just how high up they were. The view was breathtaking and, while she was able to appreciate the sailboats moored in the bay, she was acutely aware of the waves crashing against the distant rocks below.

"Just a little bit further," Maurice said, chuckling at the look of pure terror on Emma's face.

Will pressed his nose against her temple and let his lips linger on her cheek. She got so lost in the smell of his aftershave and the gently humming in her ear that before she knew it, they had pulled up in front of the most beautiful house Emma had ever seen.

"Home sweet home!" Maurice called as he turned the golf cart off and unlocked the front door.

"Whoa." Will whispered.

"No kidding," Emma replied.

Though it was called a villa, it was more cottage than anything else, nestled on the side of the hill, overlooking the water with a clear path to the beach.

Emma and Will followed Maurice through the front door, mouths agape at what met them on the other side. A decently sized kitchen/living room opened out onto a balcony with the most beautiful view Emma had ever seen. A bedroom stood off to the left but Emma could only close her eyes and feel the sun on her skin and the breeze in her hair.

"The office is right up the hill and if you need anything, anything at all, you call this number." Maurice pointed to a piece of paper on the counter. "We serve breakfast, lunch and dinner at the restaurant on the beach, but if you would like to purchase your own food, there is a market just beyond it."

It was overwhelming, the house, the view, the beach, the man standing next to her that she got to share it all with. Emma was so filled with joy that she reached out and threw her arms around Maurice, thanking him profusely for all he had done, though all he had really accomplished was not driving them off a cliff.

"You're welcome, ma'am," he replied, as Will gently pried Emma's arms from around the small man.

With a smile and a tip of his straw hat, Maurice closed the door behind him just as Will clapped his hands, looking at her like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Now, you said something about a bikini…"

Three hours later, Emma was on her third pina colada and Will on his fourth Corona, all remnants of his hangover gone. Her red and navy polka dot bikini was quite the attention grabber and Emma kept catching Will's eyes as they strayed from the thriller in his hands to the freckle next to her bellybutton.

They had changed quickly, wanting to take advantage of as much sun as they could on their first day. Claiming some loungers under a palm tree, Will stripped off his shirt and dove head first into the water, making Emma sorely regret not taking him up on his mile-high-club hijinks. As Will swam out to deeper waters, Emma settled herself on the resort-provided towels, which still smelled like fabric softener. With a book in one hand and frozen drink in the other, she watched as her husband was engaged in a water fight with two local boys, a fight which Will was rapidly losing.

He emerged from the water ten minutes later, panting as the boys yelled taunts from the waves.

"Don't make me come back there!" he yelled jokingly and the boys laughed, amusing themselves with a passing school of fish.

"Making friends?"

"Always," he replied as he leaned over and placed a kiss on her lips. She squealed as the cool water dripped from his shoulders and onto her chest.

Emma's book lay forgotten on her stomach as she closed her eyes behind her sunglasses. The bar was conveniently, if dangerously, placed. Will had gone up several times to refresh their drinks and Emma's mind was getting fuzzier and fuzzier from the sun and the rum.

"Baby?" Will propped himself up on his elbow as the sun began to dip in the sky. "Wanna go shower and get ready for dinner?"

Emma nodded and allowed him to help her up, swaying slightly as the blood rushed from her head. The "day at the beach" feeling was beginning to seep in and she wanted nothing more than to wash off the sand, sweat, and sunblock.

With hands linked, they made their way back to the cottage and Will let Emma hop in the shower as he made a quick call to his father to let them know they landed.

Emma worked the shampoo through her hair as the pina colada buzz wore off. The shower curtain was pulled back and she moved over to give Will room to join her. As much as she wanted to fool around, she knew that they had reservations to keep and if they started, they most definitely would not be able to stop.

Will washed the sand from her back and traced the faint tan lines across her skin. With a kiss to her shoulder, he shut the water off and wrapped a towel around her.

"Thank you, husband."

"You're welcome, wife."

They quickly dressed, a sundress for her, khaki pants and polo shirt for him, and made their way back down to the beach. Emma came to terms with the fact that she was just destined to have sand perpetually in her shoes on this trip.

As the appetizer was taken away and their wine glasses refilled, Emma leaned her elbows on the table and gazed at Will.

"What's one thing you want to do?"

"Grow old with you."

She laughed, but felt her face flush. He had a habit of doing that, of coming out with a line so serious, yet so sincere, in response to a simple question – like when she asked him in the morning what the weather was like and he answered with "beautiful," but his gaze was trained on her and not the newsman under the umbrella.

"I meant on the trip." She smiled.

He shrugged. "Swim with you, read with you, lounge with you, eat with you, drink with you, be with you. You know, the usual."

"I want to make love to you," she replied.

His eyes widened. "What? Right here, right now? Give me a minute and I'll clear off the table."

She snorted with laughter as his eyes danced, appreciating the cut of her neckline and the flush of her skin. It was a look she had seen from him many times, like he wanted to devour her and worship her in equal measure.

Needless to say, the entrée was a very distracted affair. Will kept accidentally missing his food when he went to spear it as Emma's foot slowly traveled up his leg. Her toes gently nudged his inner thigh and he choked on his water, banging a fist into his chest to stifle a groan as she reached her destination. His eyes rolled back into his head as she added a little more pressure and suddenly the dessert tray she had been eyeing all meal didn't seem all that appealing.

Will held the tablecloth in a vise grip as his breathing became quick and shallow. She could feel him hardening beneath her toes and she want nothing more than to launch herself over the table, but seeing as this was their main source of food for the next ten days, she thought it best not to send half the staff to therapy.

She had never been this daring, this adventurous. Will slowly opened up this side of her and it really was a Pandora's box. She blushed every time she entered his office, the image of him pressing her against the wall still very fresh in her mind. And as she watched his pupils dilate and his water glass silence yet another moan, she knew this was another memory she'd never forget.

Her need for him overwhelmed every other sense but she removed her foot as he hoarsely asked for the check to give him a moment to collect himself before he stood up. Her heart hammered in her chest as he signed the bill, his eyes boring into hers they both stood and headed for the beach. Once they were out of sight of the late night revelers, they practically threw themselves at each other. Emma's dress bunched in Will's fists as they tried to get as close to each other as possible. Her hands threaded through his hair as his palms slid down over her ass, hoisting her up and wrapping her legs around him. She moaned into his mouth as he bucked into her, coaxing a groan from him as well.

"Emma…" her name fell from his lips like a prayer and for the first time that day, she cursed the distance between their cottage and the beach. He pressed her up against a palm tree dotting the deserted path and worked his hands up her thighs with his newfound leverage.

She immediately went to work on his shirt, pulling it up over his head as his palms ghosted across her stomach causing her muscles to contract.

"We need…" she tried between kisses, but her request to make a mad dash back to the house was drowned out by the moan that left her mouth when his fingers found her panties.

"Oh God, Em." His lips attached to her neck and she bucked her hips against him.

As his fingers moved her underwear aside, her eyes rolled back into her head and with them went her ability to think straight. She would take him, right here, right now, against this tree because her need for him was so far rivaling her need for air. She reached out for his belt and made quick work of the button and the zipper. His hand left her and hit the tree above her head as she slipped her hand inside his boxers.

"Oh Jesus," he choked as he supported himself, still pressing her into the bark. "We can't… I need…" Words failed him as she worked him up and down and it seemed to take every ounce of strength and will power he had to take hold of her wrist and pause her ministrations. "Not here," he croaked, moaning as he forced himself away from her and placing his hands on his knees to collect himself. "Not here," he repeated, with a little more conviction. He reached out and pulled her dress down, straightening her straps and placing a kiss to her forehead.

Sense seemed to return to her brain and she nodded, helping him back into his shirt as he buttoned up his pants. The walk back to the cottage was tense and they didn't dare hold hands for fear that just touching each other would send them into another lustful fit and this time, they wouldn't be able to stop for propriety's sake.

Emma opened the door and walked across the living room, watching as Will closed the door behind them and stared at her with an intensity she hadn't seen since he chased her all the way back to Virginia. His steps were slow but his gaze never left hers. Her heart hammered against her chest in anticipation and as his mouth found hers in the dim light of the moon, she knew that he was the only one who could ever make her whole.

While their desperation seemed to have eased, their enthusiasm was not diminished. She wrapped her legs around him once again, as he walked them both into the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed. Her knees found purchase on either side of his hips, which he ground into her in slow, lazy circles. The straps of her dress fell off her shoulders and Will nudged them further down with his nose, his lips blazing a hot trail just behind. Her fingers dance up and down his back, occasionally clawing through the material whenever there was a particularly well-placed thrust.

"Too many clothes," he mumbled against her skin and she pushed him off just far enough to grab hold of the bottom of his shirt and pull it off.

"Better," she replied as he fell back on top of her. His hand traveled up her thigh, bringing her dress with it, and she sat up as he pulled it over her head. Her bra was next and he sat back on his heels and just studied her.

"Will," she whispered, suddenly self-conscious as she attempted to cover her body.

"Don't," he tugged her arms away. "Don't ever hide yourself. Not from me." He leaned down and placed a kiss to her chest, just above her breast. "You're beautiful."

Tears pricked her eyes, but she swallowed them as she reached out for his pants once more. They fell to the floor and she slipped her hand inside his boxers again, coaxing a moan from him as he buried his face in her neck, panting against her skin.

She had always delighted in the noises he made. They turned her on more than anything touch or caress. Every moan, groan, whisper and grunt he made was a shot of heat to her core. Her grip on him tightened and he reached above her, holding onto the headboard.

"Emma." The name tore out of his throat and she moaned and bucked her hips in response.

"Will, please."

As if her words ignited a fire within him, he tugged her panties down and situated himself against the pillows, pulling her onto his lap, her legs wrapped around him.

"Is this way okay?" He always asked, wanting to make sure she comfortable.

She moaned and rocked her hips against him as his mouth fell open and his eyes rolled back.

"I'll take that as a yes," he choked out.

As if he needed further proof, she fumbled with the box of condoms on the side table and took great care rolling one on him. Finally, wrapping her legs around his waist, she slowly lowered herself onto his lap. The feeling of relief was palpable and she grabbed onto the headboard behind him as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tighter to his chest.

"Make love to me, husband," she quietly commanded when she found her voice.

"Always, wife," he responded, bucking his hips up to meet hers.

The pace started out slow as they relished the new feeling of connection that being married brought. Emma held Will's gaze, reveling in every flash of ecstasy and every look of love that crossed his face. His palms were gentle on her hips as he guided the pace, but her breath hitched as a particularly deep thrust caused her to grip the headboard once again. Will's eyes darkened as he picked up the pace and Emma tossed her head back, biting her lips in an effort not to scream.

"No one's around," he whispered hotly. "Let it out."

"Oh God, Will!" she panted as she moved above him. Her moans got louder and louder as he buried his face in her chest, chanting her name.

Eventually the feeling became too much, too much love, too much lust and something inside of her exploded as she let out a scream that she was sure the skinny-dippers on the beach could hear. Will pressed his palm against her back as she clenched around him, groaning in his attempt to hold out until she came down from her high.

"Let go, baby," she whispered and, with a thrust and a grunt, he did.

They stayed like that for a while, her in his lap, chests pressed together, bathed in a sweaty afterglow.

"Wow," Emma whispered, pulling back and gazing into Will's eyes.

"Wow," he responded, voice hoarse and limbs shaking.

She was loathe to part from him so she wrapped her arms and legs around him and held on tighter.

"Promise me it'll be like this for the rest of our lives," she panted.

"I promise," he replied, equally out of breath. "Until you break my hip or something."

She giggled as he scooted forward and lied down, bringing her with him. Her ear pressed against his chest and she heard its rapid beat begin to quiet as she lay sprawled on top of him.

And that's exactly how they woke nearly ten hours later, with the morning sun streaming through the windows and the breeze making the sheer curtains billow.

Emma picked her head up off his chest and squinted at the clock on the bedside table. 7:58. Gently climbing off of him, she stretched her sore muscles from the evening's activities and watched with a smile on her face as Will rolled over and reached for her in his sleep.

Her wedding ring caught the light, drawing her attention to it, and she couldn't help looking at its pair on her husband's hand. The warm feeling of bliss washed over her and she tied a cotton robe around her waist as she brewed some coffee, hoping the smell would rouse Will.

Sure enough, he came padding out onto the balcony ten minutes later in nothing but his boxers, clutching a mug of hot coffee in his hand. She put down her book and tilted her head back, her silent way of demanding a "good morning" kiss.

He groaned as he bent down and pressed his lips to hers and she giggled in his mouth.

"Sore?"

He gingerly sat in the chair across from her. "You have no idea."

"Well, at least you didn't find palm tree bark in your hair this morning."

He raised his eyebrows. "Well done us."

She snorted and took a sip of her tea. "You're lucky a coconut didn't hit you in the head."

Silence fell as they looked out over the water and the way the sun bounced off the rippling waves. The beach was quiet but a few early risers already had their lounge chairs perfectly situated to get an even tan. Will propped his feet up on the balcony railing and looked over at Emma.

"What's on the agenda for today?"

"Beach," she replied, opening her robe to show the bathing suit she already wore. His eyes roamed over the black and green material appreciatively.

"Cover up before I start round two."

With a Cheshire cat smile, she fastened the robe once more and turned her attention back to her tea. "Do you feel any different?"

He frowned. "Different how?"

"I don't know, just different. I feel different. You know, being married. I know it's probably in my head, but I kind of like it."

He cocked his head at her with a loving smile, and she figured he thought she was crazy.

"Maybe you don't feel different because you've been married before," she whispered, regretting the words as soon as they left her lips. It was a fear she always had, that her marriage to him would be compared to his marriage to _her_. Terri's ghost haunted her throughout their relationship but as both Will and Jack proved time and again, her fears were completely irrational.

"Emma," his feet left the balcony and he leaned forward, placing his mug on the table, "our marriage..." he trailed off and shook his head. "You cannot compare it to her - "

"I know, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. It was silly. " Emma stood and gathered her mug from the table, but Will caught her arm as she attempted to escape to the kitchen.

"Em, it wasn't silly. Not if that's what you're actually thinking." With a gentle tug, he pulled her into his lap.

"You know that there's no one like you, right? No one. She may be my ex-wife, but you are my _wife_. And I will spend the rest of my life with you and no one else."

Emma couldn't help the tear that spilled over and tracked down her cheek. Will placed a kiss in her hair as she buried her face in his neck.

"We'll be sitting on rocking chairs when we're 80. I'll be singing karaoke and you'll be yelling at me to turn the music down."

She laughed as he ran a comforting hand up and down her back.

"We'll be so in love that we'll embarrass our kids when they have friends over. They'll be yelling at us to ease up on the PDA and not the other way around."

He laughed and cradled her closer to his chest and for a moment, she allowed herself to trust in the words he said and the echo of his heartbeat in her ear, as the gentle crash of distant waves lulled her into a sense of safety.

But she knew it wouldn't always be like this. They would fight and they would yell. They would say things they didn't mean and throw accusations they wished they could take back.

Because though she was in the haze newlywedded bliss, she knew that marriage was work. It was about compromise and sacrifice, which Will learned the very hard way.

But for this moment, this one small moment, as she sat in his arms with his breath on her neck and his promises in her ear, she allowed herself to believe that there were happily-ever-afters and knights in shining armor.

And though they might not look like your typical fairytale fare, Emma knew that even knights in blue jeans and tweed vests were perfectly capable of coming in and absolutely sweeping you off your feet.


	32. Homecomings

**Do not even get me STARTED on the season finale. Did you see this so-called Wemma cliffhanger? 'Cause I sure as hell didn't. Ooooh, he has his arm around her – tune in next season! Bullshit… I'm sorry, but I am pissed. And you know how much I hate to do author notes. That's how pissed I am. **

_Homecomings_

"Owwww." Emma gripped the bedspread and buried her face in the fabric.

"Sweetie, stop squirming," Will murmured as he rubbed the aloe gel into her burnt shoulders.

"But it hurts."

"I know it does."

"Don't you dare say, 'I told you so," she snapped.

"Now why would I do a thing like that?" His tone was teasing and she turned her head to glare at him.

It had been their final day on the island and Emma desperately wanted to report back to Lima, OH with a tan. Will had tanned nicely. Ridiculously nicely, but all Emma had done was bloom some extra freckles. To remedy her situation, she thought it would be a great idea to sit out with an SPF 4 instead of an SPF 30. Will warned her, but did she listen? Nope.

And now here they were, thirty minutes back in their apartment as newlyweds and Emma was lying on her stomach, topless, as Will rubbed aloe into her heated pores.

Though evidence of their bliss stained her skin, Emma knew that life would start back up tomorrow - the morning alarm would ring, the school would open, and students would parade through her office, perhaps remarking on the blush that would not fade from her cheeks, she'd make some excuse about the sun, and then recognition would flash across their faces as they said something like, "Oh right. You got married."

It was the kind of single-minded selfishness that Emma sometimes wished she could get away with - not having to worry about anyone but herself. But as Will placed a gentle kiss on the back of her neck and blew soft breath across her pink skin, she knew that worrying about only herself was not the kind of life she wanted to live.

She felt Will leave the bed and run his fingers through her hair. "Any dinner preferences?"

She shook her head, entirely too relaxed at the feel of his touch against her scalp to voice her opinion.

He chuckled. "Take out it is."

Emma tried to hold onto to the final remnants of her honeymoon, but the evening passed by in a blur of Chinese takeout containers and bad TV movies. She had envisioned a bubble bath and hours of lovemaking, but with her sunburn, hot water was out of the question and potential positions were severely limited. She settled for curling into Will's side as they flipped between Dirty Dancing and Die Hard. It wasn't bubble baths and champagne, but it was him, and that was all she needed.

The hallways of McKinley High were bustling with pre-homecoming activities: posters lined the walls urging students to vote for King and Queen, remnants of a blueberry slushie slid down a locker, staining the beige colored paint, and members of the football team were rowdier than usual with over-zealous high-fives, frightening unsuspecting freshmen.

Emma inhaled deeply, bracing herself for the day ahead and Will's hand rubbed comforting, but gentle, circles on her sore back.

"See you at lunch?"

"Absolutely."

He placed a chaste kiss on her lips and let his hand drop from her back. She continued down the hall to her office, stopping briefly to turn and watch him disappear into his Spanish classroom.

"Hey, Mrs. Schue!"

Emma whipped around at the sound of Rachel's voice, giving the pint-sized powerhouse a wide smile. "Hello, Rachel."

"Welcome back!" Rachel's beaming face disappeared back into her locker and Emma felt a rush of warmth for the kids she didn't even realize she missed.

They had come home the night before to a voicemail from Finn, with everyone else yelling their hellos from the background, thanking them for the opportunity to perform at their wedding. The teen assured Will that New Directions was practicing for Sectionals in his absence, and Rachel chose that precise moment to launch into a background diatribe of how the rest of the group was disrespecting her. Her voice became muffled and there were noises of a scuffle, causing Emma to assume that someone had tackled the diminutive soloist to silence her.

Emma giggled at the memory. Though they had come home to multiple voicemails, cards, and emails, that was one they most definitely saved.

Her desk was covered in neatly stacked piles of paper, each topped with detailed notes from the interim guidance counselor. From the look of things, there were no massive emotional meltdowns, no cases of student revolt. Emma began filing the papers since her longtime sub knew better than to mess with her filing system.

"Excuse me..."

A bright voice drew Emma's attention to the door where a leggy blonde stood, leaning against the streak-free glass.

"Can you tell me how to get to the home-ec room? I've been here a week but I'm completely turned around."

"Oh, are you the new teacher?" Emma stood and walked around the desk. "I didn't realize Mrs. Hagberg was leaving."

"Oh God, no." The blonde shook her head and Emma could've sworn it was as if a golden curtain was framing the perfect bone structure of her lightly tanned face. "I don't do long-term things. I was subbing last week, but the home-ec broad came down with the flu and they asked me to stick around."

Emma shakily cleared her throat. "Which, uh, which subject were you covering?"

"Spanish..."

Something in Emma's stomach dropped.

"... And let me tell you. The regular teacher?" She fanned her face. "He's hot."

"He's my husband." Emma's defense mechanism spit the words out before she could process what she had said.

"Damn." The new teacher nodded appreciatively. "Well done you. They told me he was on his honeymoon, but I didn't realize..." she gestured nonchalantly to Emma before trailing off. "Anyways. I'm Holly."

Holly held out her hand, but it took Emma a moment to realize that the blonde expected her to actually shake it. Emma's mind was still with the sentence that was never completed, dangling in the air to tease Emma's paranoia. What was she going to say? "I didn't realize he had married _you_ – _you_ who can't even tan properly."

With a shake of her head and a narrowing of her eyes, Emma clasped Holly's hand, making a mental note to check her backup supply of hand sanitizer in the bottom right hand drawer.

"I'm Emma Pills - uh, Schuester. Emma Schuester."

"Still gettin' used to it, huh?" Holly smiled, but shivered, as if the very idea of commitment terrified her.

"The home-ec room is a left at the end of the hall and third door on the right," Emma said, remembering the reason the blonde stopped by in the first place.

"Awesome. I make some amazing pot brownies." Holly winked as she strode out the door, leaving Emma to wonder if she truly was kidding.

The next few hours passed by in a blur and Emma sat at her desk seeing all she had to do, but not really making any attempt at progress. The final bell before lunch rang and she went through the motions: pulling her cooler from the bottom drawer and schooling her face for the inevitable whispering she would endure from jealous faculty members. She would take the students' indifference over the gossip-mongering that happened everyday at those stupid, round, germ-infested lunch tables.

The hush that descended in the lounge as Emma entered was easier to ignore when she saw a familiar face in the crowd. Shannon grinned widely and waved her over, asking about the honeymoon and telling her how wonderful she looked with a little color, nevermind that she was red instead of brown.

"Where's the hubby?"

Emma looked at the door for the thirteenth time in the past five minutes. "Good question."

Frowning, she stood and told Shannon she'd be right back, before hurrying down the hall to his office. She slowed as she approached, but what she saw when she peered through the window stilled her hand on the knob.

Will's head was thrown back in laughter as Holly's voice echoed around the room.

"I mean, right?"

"I can't believe he did that," Will replied as he dabbed at his eyes.

"Who knew Kurt could wield a whisk as a weapon."

Her perfectly manicured hand came to rest on Will's arm as she tossed her golden hair and something in Emma's chest tightened. But before she could turn and slink away, Will's eyes met hers through the window and he happily waved her in.

"Em!"

"Oh geez, is it lunch already?" Holly giggled and glanced at the clock on the wall.

Emma fought the urge to roll her eyes. It's not like the bell just rang or anything.

"I'm not sure you've met. Em, this was my sub, Holly Holiday." Will held out his hand and tugged Emma into his side.

"Oh, we've met." Holly's smile was kind but there was something in her tone. Something challenging. Taunting. As if she wondered why on earth the man next to her wore a ring linking him to the mousy redhead in front of her.

Whatever had a hold of Emma's heart twisted.

"Yes, she stopped by the guidance office for directions," Emma murmured, pressing herself harder into Will's side.

"Confusing school," Holly whispered in Will's ear, close enough that he ducked his head as her breath tickled his skin and laughed uncomfortably, reaching for Emma once again.

"Lunch?" Will cleared his throat and gently tugged Emma out of the room. "I'm sure Shannon's waiting."

"She wants details. And pictures."

"Oh boy," Will muttered as his hand grazed the back of her neck. Emma smiled, Holly all but forgotten as she trailed behind.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Shannon tackled Will in a bear hug, lifting him clear off the floor, the kids tackled him in the choir room, _almost_ lifting him clear off the floor, and Sue threw a slushie at him, which he managed to dodge at the last second.

Will and Emma had chosen the worst possible time to come back from a honeymoon. The homecoming game and dance were that Friday night and Figgins cornered them in the parking as they left to beg them to be chaperones. It wasn't exactly how Emma wanted to spend her first Friday night back from her honeymoon, but duty called, which was how she found herself sitting at a table with Holly Holiday that Tuesday discussing the merits of streamers.

"They rip easily. If they get wet, they stain. They're tacky." Emma reasoned, ticking the downfalls off on her fingers.

"I happen to love streamers," Holly interjected.

Emma rolled her eyes. Of course she did.

Quinn cleared her throat to ease the obvious tension and tapped the notepad in front of her. "Great! I think we have a lot of great suggestions."

As the faculty advisors for the Homecoming committee, a role that Emma had fallen into when Sue tried to sabotage the proceedings and one that Holly had enthusiastically volunteered for, the women were expected to meet with the student committee to finalize decorations. But it was difficult for Emma to hold her tongue when Holly kept describing the various ways she spiked the punch in her own high school, much to Santana's delight. She was taking copious notes, which she would no doubt photocopy for Puck's viewing pleasure.

The chairs scraped along the linoleum floor as the group stood with Holly taking a loud slurp of her caramel macchiato.

"Hey, Emma, how's that hot hunk of husband?"

Quinn's eyebrows hit her hairline and Santana snorted as Emma felt her face flush.

"He's, he's fine."

"Yeah he is." Holly grinned, winked, and sauntered out of the room, leaving three very stunned people in her wake.

"Mrs. Schue, she just blatantly hit on your man. You need me to step in?" Santana was already digging for her metal nail file in her bag.

"That's sweet, Santana, but unnecessary," Emma replied, though she wondered deep down if there was anything in the immediate vicinity that she could use as a weapon should the situation call for it.

That afternoon, when Holly asked Will how often he worked out… at the lunch table… in front of everyone… Emma nearly choked on her food. Will shifted in his seat under the scrutiny as Emma drummed her fingers harshly against the table.

"Uh, I dance a lot."

The most adorable thing about Will was also one of his biggest faults. He was completely oblivious. After fifteen years with Terri, he wasn't used to women coming onto him. He treated any female attention like he did his student crushes – with naivety.

With a shrug he returned to his cookie and Emma returned to plotting Holly's demise.

"Will?" Emma gripped the glass of wine in her hand as she sat on the couch that evening watching some procedural drama. "What do you think of Holly?"

"Holly?' He poked his head in the living room, dishtowel slung over his shoulder. "She's all right. Certainly outgoing." He disappeared into the kitchen, but Emma didn't want to let the conversation drop.

"But don't you think she's a little… inappropriate?"

"In what way?" he called.

"Like asking you how much you worked out."

"Oh," Will returned and shook his head. "She was asking because she wanted to know if there were any good exercise classes in town. She told me after lunch. Apparently, she's a gym rat."

"And you bought that?"

"She's new in town, Em."

Emma scoffed, the wine in her hand inhibiting her ability to bite her tongue.

Will grinned and sauntered toward her. "Emma Schuester, are you jealous?"

"No." The wine was clearly inhibiting her ability to lie, as well.

"I think you are. I think you're jealous because the substitute teacher called me a 'hot hunk of husband."

Emma's jaw dropped. "Who told you that!"

"Santana. She wanted me to know that she had your back. Though," he tapped her nose, "I think you're pretty scrappy when you want to be."

She narrowed her eyes, but her argument was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Maybe that's Holly asking me out on a date."

"That's not funny, Will."

Will chuckled as he opened the door, revealing a sniffling Rachel holding a pile of purple fabric.

"Rachel. What's wrong?" Will stepped back, ushering her into the apartment.

"Hi, Mr. Schuester. I'm sorry to interrupt your newlywedded bliss, but is Mrs. Schuester here?"

Will nodded, placing a hand on Rachel's shoulder and guiding her into the living room where Emma had already risen from the couch.

"Rachel, what happened?" Emma led her over to the couch and eyed the purple mess in her arms.

Rachel opened her mouth to explain, before crumbling into a sobbing mess. Will, wide-eyed, disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a glass of water. Rachel choked out a 'thank you' before downing it in one go.

"The tailor destroyed my homecoming dress. I just wanted a little taken in from the sides and the hem, but his daughter is running against me for queen and I'm convinced he did it on purpose. My dads don't think so, but I do. For a man who can tailor a suit in an hour, he should be able to fix a simple hem."

Emma placed a hand on the girl's knee as she continued to cry.

"It's just that… it's the first time I'm running for anything and it's my senior year and I really wanted it to be special. Do you think… could you…?" She held out the purple mess in her hands. "Our competition dresses always come out so well and I was wondering - "

"Of course, Rachel," Emma interrupted. "Of course I'll try and fix it." Emma took the dress from her hands and smoothed it out in front of her. She could tell the hem was long, even without holding it up to Rachel, and the bodice looked as though it was lopsided, but Emma smiled for the distraught teen anyway.

"Even though they're gay, my dads don't really know their way around a sewing machine. Actually, I don't even think we own one."

Will held out another glass of water to the girl, which she gratefully took, before he cleared off the coffee table so Rachel's measurements could be taken.

"Go ahead and change and I'll get my pins."

Rachel disappeared into the bathroom and Will cupped Emma's face in his hands, bringing it in for a kiss.

"What was that for?"

He smiled and placed another kiss on her nose. "You're a good woman, Mrs. Schuester."

Rachel emerged a moment later, the dress hanging a little loose and a little crooked, but not looking awful.

"Come on, up you go." Will gave her his hand and helped her onto the coffee table as Emma examined the stitching.

"Are you sure her father did this? It looks like someone just went to it with a needle and thread."

Rachel narrowed her eyes in thought before realization dawned. "I'm going to kill her."

"Who?"

"Valerie Pritchett, the new freshman who's more conniving than Quinn and more ambitious than me. It's her family's dry cleaning business. I should sue!"

Her excitement made her wobble and she had to grab onto Will's shoulders before she toppled to the ground.

"Let's fix this first before you go slapping half of Lima with lawsuits, all right, Rach?"

Rachel huffed but remained still as Emma snipped the thread holding the shoddy alterations together.

"Again, I'm really sorry to just burst in here," Rachel said, eyeing the abandoned glass of wine on the table and the familiar Law and Order theme music in the background.

"Don't worry about it, Rach." Will smiled and sat on the couch behind Emma as she worked on Rachel's dress.

"How was the Caribbean?"

"Amazing. I'll show you guys some pictures soon."

Emma was happy to let Will do the talking, seeing as the line of pins between her lips prevented her from offering little more than a nod and muffled noise. She was lulled by the banter between her husband and his student, by the song suggestions and the argument over which Broadway Tony Award winner was more deserving. She remembered the days of Rachel's crush and how far the teen had come. She had been all doe-eyed infatuation, but now she looked at Will with something akin to a father or big brother and it made Emma smile when the conversation moved to favorite ice cream. Rachel claimed chocolate soy and Will claimed mint chocolate chip. Both sides were well argued.

"Okay, Rach, I've got it all pinned. You can hop off and I'll bring it to school tomorrow."

"Are you sure? I mean, the dance isn't until Friday…"

Emma patted her arm reassuringly. "It really won't take that long."

"Okay." Rachel hopped off and disappeared back into the bathroom to change.

And when she emerged all teary hugs and heartfelt thank yous, Holly Holiday had all but left Emma's mind.

Friday came before Emma could even comprehend her own wardrobe. At 6:05pm, she stood in front of her closet in only her underwear as she tapped her foot against the carpeted floor. She had to be at the gym in 40 minutes and she had yet to do her hair and makeup.

She heard the familiar clink of Will's keys on the hall table announcing his arrival.

"Em?"

"In here!"

He appeared a moment later, his eyes widening at her apparel, or lack thereof.

"Yes, I definitely think you should wear that to the dance."

She swatted at him. "How was the game?"

"Won by three in overtime. Finn was amazing. I'm so proud of him." He placed a kiss on her cheek and stripped his shirt off to jump in the shower. "I'm bummed you couldn't come."

"I told you Will, I had to get ready." She pulled a blue dress out of the closet and held it up. It was the same blue dress she wore to the Winter Formal almost four years ago, when Will asked her to dance and she didn't really mind the streamers hanging over her head. Deciding it was the one, she laid it gently out on the bed and entered the bathroom to do her makeup.

"People were asking for you."

"Like who?"

"Uh…Shannon, Holly… Oh, she had some great ideas for Sectionals."

Emma's head shot up at the mention of Holly's name. "What was Holly doing there?"

"What?"

Emma raised her voice over the water. "What was Holly doing there?"

"I dunno. She likes football, I guess."

"Is that was she told you?"

Will's head poked around the curtain. "Emma, don't start. You're being paranoid."

She silenced her response, knowing that listing all of Holly's advances over the past few days would only start an argument she didn't have the time or energy for. Instead, she focused her anger on her eyelash curler before realizing what a bad idea that was when she almost poked her eye out.

Holly could go to the game. Holly didn't need at least two and a half hours to prep. The notion taunted her.

And maybe she was being paranoid, reading into things that weren't really there. But then she remembered Holly's perfectly manicured hand resting on her husband's nicely sculpted forearm and all excuses of paranoia rapidly flew out of her mind.

Will was ready annoyingly quickly as Emma ran around trying to find her matching navy pumps. Ten minutes and multiple urgings from her husband to hurry up later, Emma trotted out the door as Will locked up behind them.

The gym was beautiful, tacky streamers aside. Quinn had eventually strong-armed the rest of the committee into a Wonderland theme. Large plants and flowers emerged from corners, punch was served in plastic teacups and students were urged to wear one outlandish accessory. Top hats seemed to be the top choice.

A large outcry from the door signaled Finn's arrival and it was amusing to see a few of his fellow football players try to hoist him onto their shoulders, only to crumble under 6'5" teen's weight.

The DJ began to spin and the kids filtered onto the dance floor. Will pressed a hand onto Emma's lower back, kissing the still tender skin of her exposed shoulder.

"You look beautiful. I'm sorry I didn't tell you that sooner."

Emma smiled and kissed his cheek. "You don't look too bad yourself."

"Mrs. Schuester?"

Will and Emma looked over at Rachel, absolutely stunning in her purple dress that fit like a glove.

"Mrs. Schuester, I just wanted to thank you again for everything."

"You look beautiful, Rachel." Emma smiled. "Now turn around, let me see."

Rachel giggled as she spun.

"Gorgeous, Rach. Aw crap." Will's compliment was marred by Puck's attempt to spike the punch and Will dashed off yelling, "Puckerman! Here! Now!"

"Thanks again, Mrs. Schue," Rachel offered as she disappeared back into the crowd.

Emma preferred to stay on the periphery of things like this. The only time she ever really got involved at a dance was at her own wedding, really. But when it concerned McKinley High, she chose to stay as far away from the sweat and grinding and flailing limbs as possible.

She saw Shannon chatting to Figgins as Will reprimanded Puck in a corner, before letting him rejoin the dance. Had Sue caught him, Puck most definitely would not have seen the inside of the gym again that night. Or ever. Emma was pretty sure that was the reason for the grateful look that graced Puck's face.

Her gaze scanned the crowd, looking for anything suspicious or untoward. Everything seemed normal. Dresses were too short, students danced too close, the usual.

Until her eyes settled on blonde hair tied back into a sleek ponytail, a backless black dress, and legs for miles. As Holly navigated her way through the crowd, jaws dropped and girlfriends seemed to be having some trouble regaining their boyfriends' attention. It was like the parting of the red sea as she cut across the dance floor.

Emma watched as Holly made a beeline for Will where he stood chatting with Shannon. Her eyes narrowed and her heart ached at the way Will's eyes widened ever so slightly upon seeing her. Sure, he was human and a man, but it still hurt. Emma glanced down at her own dress, overly conservative compared to Holly's and she hated that which she once treasured, since four years ago, it helped Will find her in the crowd and guide her through her first dance at McKinley High.

The tightness in her chest increased exponentially as Holly nodded towards the swaying crowd and held her hand out to Will. Emma watched him hesitate for the briefest of moments, his eyes quickly scanning the crowd in search of her most likely. She prayed he'd find her, prayed he'd see her pressed against the wall and leave Holly with her hand outstretched as he made his way toward her – toward his wife.

But her dress did her no favors tonight. There was no way she could stand out when Holly's bright presence cast such a large shadow.

Emma watched through blurry vision as Will placed his hand in hers and led her onto the dance floor. She could practically feel his hand pressed against Holly's bare back, the weight of it burning her already burnt skin.

Emma blinked and the tears fell. Because Holly got the first dance. Not Emma. And Emma had waited thirty years for her first Homecoming dance with him.

Holly said something that caused him to laugh and the pain in Emma's chest grew. This was new for her, this feeling. Sure, she felt jealous when Will was with Terri, but that just seemed like an inevitability. There was nothing she could do about that because she had no claim on him. But now, her claim manifest itself in the shape of the ring on her hand and the anger in her gut grew the closer Holly's palm slid to the back of Will's neck.

The song wound down, but Emma's gaze did not waver from the couple in the middle of the room. Puck could have poured an entire handle of Jameson into the punch and Emma would not have blinked.

Holly thanked Will for the dance, her hand lingering again on his forearm, before she walked away. Emma tried to find reason: Will was a nice guy and Holly was new. At least that's what she knew Will's excuse would be.

With Holly's mere presence no longer clouding his vision, Will's eyes finally found Emma's and he smiled, but when her stoic façade failed her, she made a mad dash for the hall, his footsteps not far behind.

"Em!"

She slowed to a stop and leaned against the wall, taking comfort in the cool stone.

"Hey, hey," Will ran his hands up and down her arms. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing."

"Crying in the middle of a Homecoming dance is not 'nothing.' For a high schooler? Maybe. For an adult, not really." He pressed his nose into her hair and inhaled. "Talk to me."

Emma sniffed. "It's Holly."

"Not this again." His tone was light, teasing, as he placed a kiss on her nose.

"Will, I'm serious!"

His smile slipped the smallest fraction and she could he was fighting the urge not to roll his eyes.

"That's how she comes off, Emma. She's not hitting on me. She's just… a little friendly."

"Friendly. Is that what we're calling it these days?" she snapped.

"Emma." His smile vanished. "What's this really about?"

"She's helping you with songs - "

"She helped me once! During a timeout at a football game, because frankly there wasn't much else to chat about!"

"You danced with her!" Emma's voice broke and she swallowed back a sob.

"So what? She asked, I didn't want to be rude! His patience was gone as his voice echoed down the empty hallway. "I've danced with Shannon before. I dance with the kids all the time. Hell, I've even danced with Sue!"

"But she was all over you." Emma just needed Will to see what she saw. That was it. And then he'd understand.

Will groaned and ran a hand through his hair. "Emma, you're being ridiculous."

"Oh am I?"

"Yes! She is a substitute teacher. You are my wife."

"And what was I when Terri was your wife?"

The response he had been about to lob back was lost in his throat as the color drained from his face. Her heart hammered in her chest as he closed his mouth and swallowed, his eyes dropping to the floor.

"Oh God. Will." She reached out to him, but he backed away. His forehead creased and he cocked his head, as if trying to understand how she could take the crumbling of his first marriage and throw it in his face like that.

"Unbelievable," he muttered, before turning and walking away from her.

"Will!"

But he never looked back. He rounded the corner and disappeared from sight, leaving Emma with nothing but some wilted streamers hanging over her head and mascara stains streaming down her face.


	33. Contritions

_Contritions_

It had started off small – a twinge somewhere low in her stomach. But days passed and it got bigger, stronger, as it spread up her sternum, through her chest, chilling her veins and seizing her heart.

She had always considered herself a somewhat rational person, grape-scrubbing aside, but never had she ever let her own insecurities cloud her judgment so badly.

She blindly made her way back through the dance, head down, mind reeling. What just happened? She pulled to a stop when a pair of black stiletto heels entered her vision.

"Emma, have you seen Shannon? I promised to start the electric slide with her. Hey," Holly's hand came to rest on Emma's shoulder. "You all right?"

"Please leave me alone," Emma muttered as she shrugged out from under Holly's grasp, but Holly held firm.

"Emma - "

"Please," Emma's voice cracked. "You've caused enough trouble for us this week."

"Us?..." Holly looked utterly baffled until realization dawned. "Whoa, whoa, backup. Is this about Will?"

Emma remained silent, but Will's name on Holly's lips caused her throat to close again.

"Look, Will's hot and all, but I wouldn't go after him. He's not my type."

Emma sniffed and surreptitiously wiped a hand across her eyes, happy that there were enough other distractions in the crowded gym to keep attention away from herself.

"Not your type...?"

"Taken. Well," Holly shrugged, "_happily_ taken, I should say."

Emma welled up again and Holly led her to a secluded corner not occupied by horny teenagers.

"Emma, Will loves you. I've been here a week and it's plain as day. When we danced, I was just telling him that you two look so happy together. You even match," she chuckled, tugging gently on Emma's navy dress. At Emma's confused look, Holly continued, "He's wearing a navy pocket square and tie. Didn't you notice?"

In Emma's haste to run out the door, in the midst of her internal war of words, Emma failed to see that her dress _had _done her some favors - she did stand out. She wasn't overshadowed. And the thought made her stomach hurt.

"So you weren't..." she trailed off, feeling sick.

Holly shook her head. "Hell, I flirt with everyone, but no, I was not actively pursuing. Now come one, the electric slide is starting up."

Holly attempted to tug Emma onto the dance floor but Emma politely excused herself, rushing to the hall where she promptly burst into tears. As she had watched her husband dance with another woman, she didn't think it was possible to feel worse than she did in that moment, but boy was she wrong.

A weepy romantic comedy, a bottle of wine, and a box of tissues were Emma's companions that night. She came home to an empty apartment and an armful of guilt, her words echoing in her head as she checked every room and every closet for evidence that Will had been there.

"_And what was I when Terri was your wife?_"

Emma pinched the bridge of her nose as another wave of nausea swept through her. It was wrong to use his first marriage as a weapon, to trivialize the feelings he had for her before he had a right to have them. How could she have compared Holly to herself? Or herself to Terri?

As Meg Ryan bawled her eyes out to Billy Crystal on the television, Emma wept into her tissue as she clutched the phone in her hand, willing it to ring.

But it never did. Emma fell asleep on the couch that night, phone in one hand, tissue in the other only to wake to a quiet morning. The bed was unmade, the kitchen didn't smell like coffee, and his gentle humming as he made breakfast was noticeably absent. With a heavy heart, Emma trudged into the bathroom and let the hot water burn her tender skin.

Thirty-minutes later she emerged to find a voicemail on her phone and she cursed her timing as Will's name flashed across the screen.

_"Hi... It's me... um, I, uh, I'm staying with my Dad this weekend. I just... didn't want you to worry..._" He inhaled deeply and Emma could hear the telltale shake of his voice. "_Anyway… We'll talk later… I love you_."

Emma closed her eyes, pressing out a tear as the phone fell to the bed. One week into their marriage and they were already staying in separate places. Will was with Jack – and immediately panic washed over her. What must Jack think of her – jumping to conclusions and questioning her trust in his son? No doubt Will arrived angry and upset, ranting about the pain Emma had caused him. He certainly would have been in his right to do so. But had Emma been there at Jack's, she would have been met with an entirely different picture altogether.

She would have seen Will stumble up the front porch and bang on the door until his father answered. She would seen Jack usher his son in without a word and guide him over to the kitchen, where Will would tell his father all that had happened – never condemning, never accusing – merely stating. And Jack would sit there silent, not interrupting, as his son spilled all that had driven him across town, away from his new wife, at 9:45 on a Friday evening.

Emma had spent her life being whispered about and criticized. She just assumed that everyone was bound to find her faults in a situation, but had she been there – had she seen Jack and Will that night – she would have known that they were finding everyone's fault but hers. Jack blamed the misunderstanding; Will blamed himself. He blamed the dissolution of his first marriage, his handling of his fledging relationship with Emma, his blindness when it came to women, his tendency to trust too easily, his naivety and optimism that helped so much it hurt.

As Emma paced the living room, stopping every so often to check her phone, she had no idea that Will was her mirror image across town, wearing a hole in his father's carpet. She spent Sunday writing all that she wanted to say next to neat bullet points on a legal pad of paper and rehearsing them in front of an empty chair, but at the first sound of a car door, the words deserted her.

She needn't have worried, though. It wasn't Will's door announcing his arrival. In fact, Sunday night came and went with no sign of him, and the rock in the pit of Emma's stomach grew.

Monday morning arrived in a groggy haze and Emma slammed her hand blindly down on the blaring alarm clock on Will's nightstand. It had been a rough weekend for sleep. Every time she rolled over, she expected to meet the warm body next to her, but she found only nothing. It was amazing how, in just a short year, she had become solely dependent on the other person in the bed for a restful night. Despite his occasional snoring and penchant for jumping her bones early in the AM, Emma really couldn't sleep without him.

So it was with an anxious heart and heavy eyelids that she drove into McKinley's parking lot, scanning the cars for his and finding it haphazardly hiding in the shade of a tree. She pulled her car in between two others and opened the door with a sigh. Her anger had ebbed and her paranoia seemed foolish in retrospect. All she was left with now was regret and a burning desire just to see him.

She missed him.

This need was what guided her feet down the choir room corridor, instead of taking the more direct route to her office, but what she saw when she passed caused her heart to drop with the speed of an amusement ride: Will... with his arms around a blonde, gently rocking her back and forth.

Emma's heart hammered in her chest until the blonde pulled away, revealing Quinn instead of Holly, her eyes wet and her cheeks blotchy. Emma's brow furrowed in confusion as Quinn said something to Will that Emma couldn't hear, before dissolving into sobs once more and burying her face in his chest.

Concerned for the girl, but not wanting to interrupt, Emma moved to the side of the door and continued to watch through the window as Will talked to her. Pain, fear, and hope flashed across Quinn's face and Emma racked her brain, wondering what could have gotten the cheerleader so upset. She had always admired the relationship that Will had with his kids, though she couldn't deny the slight twinge of jealousy that ran through her because Quinn had gone to him and not her. Though arguably Will spent more time with her, Emma had thought that she and Quinn had grown closer over the past year what with everything that had happened.

The snap of a door caused Emma to jump and she realized Quinn had left through Will's office, where she used the tissues on his desk to wipe the mascara from her face, before reentering the busy hallway, head held high.

Emma's eyes returned to Will where he remained in the middle of the room, head bowed and shoulders tense, and her heart ached for him. With a turn of the knob, she entered the room but he didn't turn, as if he knew it was her. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her chest into his back. His head fell back onto her shoulder and she held on tighter, hoping to convey all she couldn't say in that one embrace. He placed his hands over hers and sighed, her chest rising and falling with his.

"I missed you," he whispered.

"I missed you, too." She buried her nose in his shirt and inhaled the fresh scent of fabric softener and aftershave. He was wearing the same shirt and navy tie he wore to the dance and a pair of jeans he no doubt left at his father's. "Will, I need you to know..."

He turned in her arms and placed a finger to her lips. "We'll talk tonight. Right now, I need your help."

"Quinn?"

Will nodded. "Shelby contacted her. Wanted to know if she was interested in seeing Beth."

Emma's jaw dropped. "Oh, God."

"She's a disaster and I don't... I don't really know what to tell her. She asked me what she should do and I just... I didn't have an answer for her. I mean, how do you face the child you gave up, knowing you'll have to do it all over again?"

Emma thought of the baby they lost and had to agree. Would she be willing to spend five minutes with their child, knowing that another goodbye was just around the corner? It was a scenario Emma wasn't sure she'd survive.

She glanced up at Will's face, at the tired eyes framed by laugh lines and dark circles. It was the first time she had seen him utterly and completely lost since the afternoon he sat across from her and asked, _"Is that what you would do?"_

"_You're a lot to lose, Will,"_ she had replied.

Will pulled away from her and rubbed his forehead. "Just please keep an eye on her. I told her she could meet me here for lunch. I think… Would you…"

"Come?" She asked.

He smiled, his first of the morning and the first she had seen since Friday night.

"Yeah."

"Of course I'll come." Warmth spread through Emma's chest at being included despite her best efforts to push him away last week.

The bell rang causing both to jump and Will looked at the clock on the wall.

"I have to go." He pressed a kiss to her forehead and headed towards his office but her voice called him back before he could disappear down the corridor.

"We'll talk tonight?" She hated how her voice broke.

He nodded and pain flashed across his face, a not-so-gentle reminder that all was not resolved. "We'll talk tonight."

And then he left.

She wasn't sure how long she stood there in the center of the choir room, but long enough for her first appointment of the day to wander the halls looking for her. The morning crawled by as she thought about how she was going to attempt to navigate the afternoon's conversation. She had always assumed that Shelby would take Beth and that was that. She was so stunned that she hadn't even bothered to ask Will how he was holding up. Beth had impacted his life too, though he tried not to let it show. She shattered the idyllic picture he had built around a loving wife and a beautiful child that proved to be nothing more than smoke and mirrors.

"_Will?" Emma pushed the door to his office open as he shot up from the mattress._

"_Emma, I was just…" He trailed off, as if searching for an excuse required energy he couldn't spare. "I, uh…" He put his head in his hands as Emma stepped further into the room. _

"_Did something happen at home?" _

_A choked sob escaped from between his fingers and Emma immediately dropped to her knees in front of him, dirty floors be damned. _

"_She was lying." Despite his tears, his voice was steady. "She's been lying this whole time." _

"_Terri?" _

_Another muffled noise escaped and Will nodded. "There's no baby."_

_Emma's jaw dropped, because of all the things she expected him to say, _that_ was definitely not one of them. _

"_I don't understand…" _

_He gave a mirthless chuckle. "Neither do I." _

And Beth's arrival was no less painful.

"_How's Quinn?" _

"_Good," he replied. "They discharged her yesterday." _

"_And the baby?"_

"_Beautiful. Seven pounds, three ounces, twenty-one inches long."_

"_Will –"_

"_I'm fine." _

But he wasn't.

At 12:30 sharp, Emma grabbed her lunch bag and headed down to the choir room, stopping briefly to watch Quinn pace in front of Will where he sat in the front row of the risers. With a gentle knock, Emma pushed the door open as both Quinn and Will's gazes settled on her.

"Hi," she said shyly and any sliver of jealousy she felt earlier evaporated as Quinn took two short strides and wrapped her arms around Emma. Her tears had dried but her body shook, and Emma glanced at Will over the blonde's shoulder. His expression was guarded but sad.

"It's okay, Quinn. We'll work it out," she whispered as she rubbed the cheerleader's back.

"Um, did something happen?"

Emma turned around to find Puck standing in the doorway, a confused expression on his face and a note crumpled in his hand.

"It said to meet you in the choir room," he said, looking at Quinn. "You're not pregnant again are you?"

At his question, Quinn dissolved into tears and collapsed back into Emma's arms, as Will stood and guided Puck none-too-gently into a chair.

"Sit."

"Ow," Puck rubbed his shoulder where Will squeezed it. "What's going on?"

Will looked at Quinn and raised his eyebrows. She nodded in reply.

"Shelby wants to know if you and Quinn want to see Beth."

Puck's face slackened at he stared at his teacher, as if trying to comprehend what exactly just left his mouth.

"See Beth?"

Will nodded and glanced over at Quinn where she remained at Emma's side.

"She called this morning," Quinn managed to get out before hiccupping. "She's moving to New York. She wanted to know…" Quinn swallowed hard, unable to go on.

"If you wanted to say goodbye," Will finished for her.

"When?" For once, Puck's face held none of the cockiness, none of the bad boy façade. He looked like a boy running out of time.

"Tomorrow," Will replied.

The air seemed to whoosh out of Puck like a balloon. "Tomorrow? But that's… that's so soon. She's moving tomorrow?" His voice had taken on a frantic edge and Will moved closer, knowingly or not.

"She wants to know if we want to meet her tonight." Quinn finally stepped out of Emma's embrace and walked closer. "She's waiting for our call."

Emma watched the conversation banter back and forth like a tennis official. Puck looked as though he was down to the final question on a game show, stumped on the answer, and out of lifelines.

"We can give you two a minute if you'd like," Will said.

Quinn and Puck exchanged a glance and nodded.

"We'll be in there if you need us." Will gestured towards his office and placed his palm on Emma's back as he guided her through the adjacent room.

As Will closed the door, Emma realized she had left her lunch in the choir room, but she didn't feel much like eating anyway. She leaned against a filing cabinet as he perched on the edge of the desk. The air was too think, the tension too awkward. This wasn't them. They didn't stand in a room, five feet apart from each other and just not acknowledge the other. Not talking, not touching. It was a totally foreign concept and Emma didn't like it. Not one bit.

"Look, I know you said you wanted to talk tonight, but I can't take it anymore."

Will's gaze left the floor and found her. He inhaled as if gearing up to say something, but he reconsidered, cocking his head as he studied her and narrowing his eyes briefly before returning them to the floor. The emotions flipped across his face like magazine pages.

"You trust me, right?" His voice, though quiet, seemed to echo in the silent room.

"Of course I do - "

"And you know I would never intentionally do anything to hurt you, right?" He lifted his gaze to hers.

"Will - "

"Please, Emma, just answer the question."

She sighed. "Of course you wouldn't."

"Okay then." He nodded his head and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "That's all I needed to know."

Emma was floored. She was expecting much more: perhaps yelling on his part, crying on hers. Was he really letting her off that easy?

"Look, Will, about what I said - "

He held up his hand, cutting her off for a third time.

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes it does!" Her anger flared because he wasn't sufficiently angry with her. Her logic was astounding. "It was an awful thing to say. I never should have thrown that in your face. Our marriage is not your first marriage, I know that, but…" She waved her arms as if the motion would help get her point across. "I never should have let my paranoia spiral out of control." She continued to work herself up into such a frenzy that tears clouded her eyes and her voice rose an octave.

"Em, Em," he whispered, as he took hold of her wrists. "Shhhh." He pressed a kiss to her forehead and pulled her tight to his chest, rocking her back and forth.

The feel of his arms and his breath in her hair were too much after three days apart and she couldn't help the tears that soaked his shirt.

"We're okay, we're okay," he repeated like a lullaby. "See? We made it through our first married fight unscathed," he chuckled, pulling away and wiping her eyes. "And still married."

She laughed as he leaned down, pressing his lips to hers. As she threaded her hands through his hair, she wondered how she had ever gone three days without this feeling and she would have continued had a knock on the door not broken them apart.

"Mr. Schue?"

"Come on in, Quinn," he called, slightly out of breath.

Emma smirked and he winked in return, before they both faced the teenager in front of them.

"You can come back in now." Quinn led the way back into the choir room, where they found Puck sitting in a chair, head in his hands and knee rapidly bouncing.

"Have you guys decided what you want to do?"

Quinn sat in the chair next to Puck and, in a move that seemed to surprise everyone in the room, wrapped her arm around his shoulder.

"We're going to see her."

Emma of course supported their decision, but it seemed to be a lose/lose situation: meet your baby and say goodbye for the second time in almost as many years or not see her at all and always wonder "what if?"

"But we can't do it at my house," Quinn continued. "I'd rather my mother not know."

"Or mine."

Emma frowned. "Has Shelby moved out already then?"

Quinn nodded. "She's staying with a friend tonight."

"You can use our apartment if you'd like," Emma offered. "Shelby can meet you there." She caught Will's eye and he smiled his approval.

"Will you stay with us?"

Neither Emma nor Will could hide their surprise that it was Puck asking and not Quinn. But Will still managed to reply with "Of course we will," without missing a beat.

The bell rang and this odd foursome went their separate ways for the rest of the afternoon. Emma sat in on glee rehearsal and watched as Will deftly deflected all attention away from Quinn and Puck who sat silent and reserved in the back row.

Two hours later, Will and Emma found themselves sitting on their couch, watching Quinn and Puck pace the length of their living room as they waited for the inevitable knock on the door. And five minutes later, it came.

"Oh God." Quinn began to hyperventilate and Emma tended to her as Will went to answer the door.

"Hi, Will." Shelby's voice echoed around the small entryway, followed by the gurgle of the child in her arms.

Quinn grabbed Puck's hand as Will led Shelby into the living room. Emma moved behind the couch, feeling like a silent intruder on such a private moment.

But as she got a good view of the child, no longer a baby, in Shelby's arms, Emma couldn't help but smile. She had her mother's blonde hair and her father's brown eyes and dark skin.

Quinn and Puck seemed frozen to the carpet as they stared at the baby, who buried her face in her mother's neck.

"Sorry, she's shy." Shelby offered, a note of apology in her voice.

How must it feel to introduce your daughter to her real mother? Emma could only imagine how terrifying it was for all parties involved and she moved farther away from the scene, pressing herself against the wall.

"You want to hold her?"

Quinn shook her head. "Not yet. I – I need a minute." Her grip remained tight on Puck's hand.

Shelby nodded in understanding as Beth's gaze bounced between Quinn, Puck, and Will. She began to squirm, as if sensing the tension in the room, and Shelby lowered her to the floor where she wavered for a moment before regaining her balance.

"She's walking?" The note of astonishment in Quinn's voice couldn't be helped.

"Sort of," Shelby chuckled, as Beth took two steps before falling back on her butt. "But she's getting the hang of it."

Beth was back up again in a moment, toddling over to Will and placing her hands on his jean-clad knees.

"Well, hi there," he said, looking down. She grinned up at him and giggled, holding her arms above her head.

"Up."

Will raised his eyebrows at Shelby and she smiled. "Well, go ahead. She gets fussy if you keep her waiting."

Not needing further prodding, Will bent down and scooped Beth up into his arms as something warm spread through Emma's chest.

"She's talking, too?" Finally, Puck spoke.

"Words here and there," Shelby replied, watching Beth play with the collar on Will's shirt. "Her first was 'moon.' _Goodnight Moon_ is a favorite in our house."

"Mine, too," Quinn whispered.

Emma noticed that the teenager's eyes had yet to leave the baby, though she looked slightly more relaxed now that Will was holding Beth instead of Shelby. Perhaps it was his familiarity, but Quinn took a step closer to Will and he nodded encouragingly. Quinn bit her lip and, sensing her hesitation, Will met her halfway. Beth held tight to Will's collar, but inspected this new person with the innocent curiosity of a child. Emma could count the features they shared: nose, hair, eye shape, lips.

With Beth in one arm, Will held out his other and brought Quinn closer, close enough for Beth to reach out of take hold of Quinn's necklace. Puck chuckled behind them and Beth smiled.

Something stirred inside Emma, a desire she had squashed ever since that fateful night when the sheets turned red, but it was back in full force as she watched her husband hold someone else's little girl. It was the natural way he held her – not too cautious, knowing she wouldn't break – as he maneuvered her from one arm to the other so Beth could play with Puck's mohawk.

Emma looked down to find her palms placed on her flat stomach without any recollection of how they got there. She swallowed as she smoothed her shirt down and dropped her hands back to her sides.

"You ready?" Will murmured, as Quinn stroked Beth's soft blonde hair.

With an inhale and a nod, Quinn held out her arms and her daughter came willingly, practically diving from Will's arms to hers.

Shelby watched with a smile on her face as Beth placed a hand on either side of Quinn's cheeks and squeezed, pushing her lips together into a pucker. Will stepped back and joined Emma, letting his kids get to know their daughter.

"She's beautiful," Emma whispered.

"Yes, she is."

"Did you ever think about…?" She let the question hang, knowing he'd pick it up.

"What our baby would have looked like?"

She nodded, her throat suddenly tight.

"Yeah, I did."

The conversation was left there. Too much pain prevented it from continuing. It seemed petty to Emma that she had started the day off upset because a substitute teacher flirted with her husband. And the principal… and the janitor. Emma supposed Holly was telling the truth – she really did flirt with everyone. But in the grand scheme of life – when people give up their children because they're just children themselves – it really was quite foolish.

Will reached behind her and wound his fingers with hers, as they watched Puck lift Beth into the air, much to the squealing toddler's delight.

He nudged her shoulder. "You want one?"

"One day," she replied.

And they left it there.

Shelby eventually left, taking Beth with her, with a promise to send Puck and Quinn pictures and updates regularly. Quinn eventually managed to collect herself long enough to thank Will and Emma for their help; Puck gave Will a tight hug and Emma a watery smile, but words seemed beyond him. The rest of the night continued as usual but Emma's mind was turning and her desire burned brighter. Her dreams taunted her with images of Will holding a child with curly red hair and she found herself daydreaming about names and nursery patterns.

Finally, a little over a month later, she deemed it necessary to pick that conversation up where they left it.

It took countless hours of careful consideration, mental monetary budgeting, and personal pep talks before she was able to walk through the bedroom door and tell her husband that which had been haunting her for so long – ever since Beth placed her hands on Will's knees.

With her heart hammering in her chest and blood rushing in her ears, she cleared her throat as he leaned against the head board, glasses perched on his nose, completely unaware that she was about to upend his world.

"Will?"

"Hm?" he responded, not looking up from the book in his hands.

"I'm ready to try."

"Try what?" he asked as he flipped another page.

"_Try_."

A moment passed and Will froze as understanding washed over his face. The book slowly lowered to his lap and his eyes met hers over the rim of his glasses.

"What?" His voice was quiet. Hesitant. As if his entire hope and happiness depended on her repetition of that simple, three letter word.

So she did.

"Try."


End file.
